


Death Wasn't On My Agenda

by WritingPains



Series: The Human Construct Of Age [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Adventures: Avengers, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Captain America - Freeform, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Marvel Universe, Other, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark-centric, spiderman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingPains/pseuds/WritingPains
Summary: They all thought Tony was dead. What else were they supposed to think when the portal closes and he doesn’t come back through?





	1. Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so that’s my first fan fiction ever finished!  
> I’ll be doing a quick edit at some point this week, because there are numerous mistakes and inconsistencies with the tenses. 
> 
> I hope you liked it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up from another nightmare, only to be called out on official S.H.I.E.L.D business with the rest of the team.  
> A hacker has been perusing their database and something needs to be done about it.

Steve isn’t surprised that his nightmares return to that fateful day in New York when the Chitauri were plaguing the city and the portal hung in the sky, acting as a doorway for untold evil. Steve was stood in a bridge, listening in horror as Fury explains the situation. 

He heard Stark say something and when he looked up, he saw his team mate latch onto the nuke and begin to guide it upwards.  
“Stark, you know that’s a one way trip?” He asks through the comms, sounding so cold and unemotional.  
In his head, he’s begging the man to stop. Begging him to find another way to get rid of the nuke, even though he logically can’t think of any. He knows that he shouldn’t go through portal, that he will never return, but Stark doesn’t care. One life instead of a thousand, that’s what his sacrifice meant, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.  
It happens so quickly, that if Steve hadn’t been watching it play out, he would have missed it. Stark disappears with the Nuke in tow and the portal closes, on his orders, no less.  
Stark never re-appeared, and Steve never moved from his spot, staring up at the hole in which his friend was lost forever.  
“No!” Steve screamed, as the streets morphed into a swirling vortex of emptiness. “Stark, come back!”  
But he didn’t. He never did. The world had lost one of its greatest minds and they had lost a valued teammate.

~~~

  
He’s woken up to Bucky nudging his arm, looking down at him with a worried expression. Steve shakes his head, as though trying to dislodge the pain that always follows the nightmares.   
“Nightmare,” he whispers.  
Bucky doesn’t reply. Instead, he climbs from the bed and leaves. Steve follows, and sits at the island in the kitchen as Bucky makes them both tea.  
“They’re never going to stop,” Bucky tells him, almost completely unsympathetically. “You just need to let yourself move on.”  
That’s rich coming from you, Steve wants to shout back, but he knows not to. He knows that Bucky is struggling to deal with his own problems, and the only reason they even share a bed now is because Bucky can’t fall asleep on his own.  
“Yeah, I know,” Steve concedes, accepting the cup of tea with a grateful smile. “I just…”  
“You’re letting the guilt of a situation you had no control over infect you. Don’t let it do that. Fight it.”  
Steve hangs his head, but before he can reply, an alarm rips through the night and both Bucky and Steve jump and rush to get ready.

  
~~~

  
Thor, Natasha and Clint meet Steve and Bucky on the Stark Tower roof, ready to board the Quinjet. Bruce shuffles out after them, sleep still gripping on at the edges, hair frazzled and his eyes drooping.  
“Any idea what’s going on?” He asks, drowsily.  
“Coulson just called. There’s been… a situation.”  
Bruce looks up at them in confusion as they sit down on the jet and Clint starts his pre-flight procedures.  
“Situation? Care to elaborate?” Bruce prompts.  
“I believe they have a hacker,” Natasha explains, looking as though she hasn’t just been rudely awoken. She always manages to look perfect. “Though I don’t know why we’re being called in. That kind of thing would be…”  
She cuts herself off, and they all know that she was about to say that it was Stark’s forte. He was the one who knew his way around a computer better than Steve knew his way around the Washington monument. They let their questions go unspoken, and they sit in silence until the jet touches down on the S.H.I.E.L.D carrier.  
“Lets just get this over with. I need to catch up on my beauty sleep,” Clint complains.  
“I don’t know if there’s enough time in the world for that,” Natasha snarks, trying to lighten the mood.  
It doesn’t work. Only Clint cracks a smile, and it’s heavy with sadness.  
“Took you long enough,” Phil says, as they walk into the meeting room. “We have a mission for you.”  
Fury stands at the head of the table and he looks angry. Clint watches warily as Fury paces, and he sits down at the furthest seat away. He doesn’t want to be within hitting distance if Fury lives up to his name.  
“You’re such a little bitch,” Natasha jokes, sitting next to him.  
“Hypocrite,” he shoots back, with a smile that betrays his intentions.   
He knows she’s not scared of Fury, and he knows he shouldn’t be scared of Fury either, but the further away they are from him, the better.  
“We have experienced a breach in security. Some idiot has decided to stick their nose where it doesn’t belong, and I need you to hunt them down and take them out. Or bring them in. Either way is fine,” Fury begins, turning to face the team.  
Clint and Natasha share a look, both of them knowing that they are going to be the ones who are sent out on this mission. They are willing to do everything in their power to stop someone from finding their way into one of the most secure agencies in the world, but they’re understandably hesitant to kill someone who hasn’t been violent, yet.  
“Send us a location, and we’ll leave,” Natasha says. “We’ll be back in four hours.”  
“Make it three.” Fury replies. “And scare the bastard. Shake him up before we start interrogations.”  
Clint scowls, never one to like how Fury enjoys reminding them that he runs them, even when his demands are pointless statements of authority. Natasha senses his anger, and quickly drags him to his feet before anything is said that could get him into trouble.  
“I’ll send the location to your phones,” Phil calls after them. “Stay safe.”  
Both Clint and Natasha nod and as they leave the room, they hear Fury telling the rest of the team about their part in the mission.  
They both pull their phones out when they hear the familiar chime of an incoming message. They both look and they find a small red, pulsing dot emanating from one of the rougher parts of downtown Brooklyn.  
“We might actually get back in three hours,” Clint muses.  
“We better, or else Fury will have us benched for a month,” Natasha replies, as they climb onto the Quinjet again. “Lets just get this over with.”

~~~

Natasha looks at Clint with a hint of confusion that she would never allow anyone else to see. Clint returns it, and then they both look back around the room.  
“Everyone here is pre-pubescent,” Clint states.  
The school library is quiet, but because of the time of year, it’s almost completely packed. Mid-term stress is painted on almost everyone’s face, and no-one looks like they’d be capable of doing anything other than crying over a failed grade.   
Natasha casually walks over to the computer section, and begins to stalk up and down the line of computers, her homing device suggesting that she is getting closer. Suddenly, the signal dies and she looks up at Clint who is tapping his phone as though persuasive maintenance is going to bring the signal back.  
That’s when a sudden movement catches her eye, and a boy stands up from his computer and begins to walk towards the back of the library. She wouldn’t have paid him much attention, if it wasn’t for the paranoid look over his shoulder. He quickly pulls out a pair of shades and lifts his hood, before running from the room.  
“You don’t think…”  
“He’s just a kid,” Clint argues, though he doesn’t seem able to persuade himself that it isn’t the hacker.  
“I guess we should go after him.”  
“Yeah, I guess so. Man, Fury is going to be pissed when he realises he was hacked by a child.”  
They both take off, heading in the direction that the kid had gone, only to discover that he’s no-where to be found. They walk past a trash can and inside they see the jumper that the kid had been wearing, and they know that they’re dealing with someone who knows how to evade people.  
They split up, each taking a different route to the school courtyard. They begin to lose hope that they’re ever going to find the kid when a boy with dark brown hair, wearing sunglasses looks over his shoulder and immediately breaks into a run upon seeing Natasha.  
“I’ve got him Clint. In pursuit, on the east side of the quad.”  
She spots Clint running towards her as she closes the space between her and the boy. She reaches out and grabs the back of his shirt, hauling him backwards. In the struggle, his glasses fall off and Clint swears under his breath.  
“You… You…” Clint seems to struggle to find the words.  
“You look like Tony Stark,” Natasha says, holding the boy steady, but at arms length as he flails his arms in an attempt to be set free.  
“I don’t care who I look like. Let me go, strawberry delight,” the kid cries, breathless. “Let me go or I’ll scream stranger danger!”


	2. I've got nothing to hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They learn some things about the boy that add up to something they're not ready to accept.

Clint can’t help himself. He keeps turning back to stare at the kid who is fighting against the jet’s seatbelt’s. He’s sat in a seat designed to keep people in place, mostly used for prisoners, but his wrists have also been cuffed, just in case he’s got tricks up his sleeve.   
“LET ME GO, YOU ASS-HATS!” He screams, his face red.  
Natasha has chosen to sit up front with Clint, and they both look back at the boy, who’s anger is at odds with his youth.  
“He looks too much like him. It makes me uncomfortable,” Clint says, his voice raised slightly so that Natasha can hear him over the kids struggle.  
Natasha nods, her brows knitted together in worry. She doesn’t say anything, other than when she calls Coulson and updates him on the situation. As expected, he seems more concerned than angry about the child in their custody, but he warns them that they should keep him out of Fury’s sight for now, so that the kid doesn’t have to deal with his wrath.  
Natasha and Clint both agree that it is probably for the best. The kid looks like he would wet himself if Fury so much as looked at him, and he doesn’t need to deal with that on top of being arrested. They also purposefully failed to mention the uncanny resemblance to their fallen ‘shield brother’, because that will probably create an unnecessary complication. Besides, it’s not important if he looks like him. It just means that it might bring up some rather unpleasant emotions, and some less than wonderful memories.  
The Quinjet lands, and Natasha unhooks and grabs the boy by the upper arm and drags him through the building, not holding hard enough to hurt him. He struggles against he grip, shouting obscenities at them all, but he’s a slight boy, almost nothing on his bones, and he’s so pale that they’re worried he’ll simply pass out on them if he gets too carried away with his escape attempts.  
Coulson meets them in the interrogation room and he takes one look at the boy and blanches. It would be unnoticeable if Clint and Natasha weren’t both highly trained in the art of reading people. He’s noticed the resemblance, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he points to the chair on the opposite side of the table and Natasha sets the boy down.  
“I want to go home!” He shouts, shaking. “You have no right to bring me here. My parents will be pissed.”  
They all look at each other, sensing the lie beneath the words, but opt out of saying anything. Clint and Natasha decide to take that moment to leave the boy in Coulson’s capable hands and they head to the observation deck where they find Thor, Steve, Bucky and Bruce staring at the boy with pained expressions.  
“He looks just like…” Bruce begins.  
“Stark.” Steve finishes, his eyes betraying his emotions and his mouth turned down.  
No-one says anything else as Coulson begins his interrogation. He sits down in front of the boy, who is leaning as far back in the chair as possible. His face looks calm but annoyed, which would be convincing if his body language tells a completely different story.  
He was tense and shaking.  
“Look, kid. You’ve been caught poking around in some dangerous places,” Coulson says, and the boys mouth turns into a smug smile.  
“Who’re you? FBI? CIA? Maybe even MI6? To be fair, I only wanted to see if they really had a James Bond.”  
“How many people have you hacked into?”  
“I don’t know,” the boy shrugs proudly. “Lots? It’s not very hard, is it? I mean, it’s basically a walk in the park, just with a few obstacles in the way. I can be very agile when I want to be. So, which one are you?”  
“How about we start by you telling us your name, before I tell you ours.”  
“I’ll make a deal,” the boy says. “One large coffee, no milk or sugar, and I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”  
“We take deals very seriously here, kid. If you get what you want and don’t tell us what we need to know, there will be some very serious consequences.”  
The boy’s already pale face grows whiter, but he simply nods.  
“I’ve got nothing to hide.”  
Phil nods and leaves the room for a second. Steve is staring intently at the boy and flinches when the kid looks up to the window and wiggles his fingers, as though he was waving.  
“He can’t see us, can he?” Bruce asks.  
“No. The window blends into the wall. The kid shouldn’t know that it’s even there,” Clint replies, curiosity tinting his confusion. “That kid is… I don’t know. Smart, I guess.”  
Coulson returns a minute later with a large take-away cup and he hands it to the boy who takes it with both of his cuffed hands and inhales the drink in a way that is very reminiscent of…  
“His mannerisms are very similar to our late friends, Anthony’s,” Thor notes, his voice booming. “It is very unsettling.”  
No-one can disagree. The boy cradles the cup, staring down at it with such reverence that you would think it held the secrets of the universe. He smiles up a Coulson and it looks so genuine and familiar that Natasha’s breath catches in her throat.  
“Ok, now speak. Who are you?”  
“I wasn’t joking when I said I had nothing to hide, Agent Agentson, sir,” the boy quips, drowning himself in coffee again. “I don’t really know who I am.”  
Coulson folds his arms and raises an eyebrow, which the boy seems to find quite funny. He smiles again, and shrugs.  
“I woke up three years ago and didn’t know anything about who I was. I… I lied earlier about my parents. I don’t have any. Or at least, I don’t think I do.”  
The boy seems to be covering up his sadness with snark, but no-one misses how the idea of being parentless hurts the boy.  
“Say I believe you,-”  
“I’m not lying!”  
“-Do you have a name we can go by for now?”  
“I like ‘Ant’, so I’ve been referring to myself as that for a while.”  
Coulson shivers, but doesn’t let himself get caught up in it.  
“Ok, Ant. Where have you been for the last three years, if not with a parent?”  
“I’ve been living on my own,” he tells Coulson, puffing out his chest. “I can look after myself.”  
“Ant, how old are you?”  
“I’m twelve. What of it?”  
“You’ve been living on your own since you were nine?”  
“I told you, I can look after myself!”  
Coulson looks as though he seriously doubts that, but recognises that the boy isn’t comfortable talking about his apparent independence. He eases away from that topic and moves onto something else.  
“So, you hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. Can you tell me why?”  
The boys eyes widen, and his smile comes back, though this time its tinged with excitement. His eyes roam around the room and then flit back up to the hidden window that he should definitely know is there.  
“This is S.H.I.E.L.D?” He looks like a kid at Christmas, and Natasha notices that it’s the first time he’s looked like a child since they found him. “Oh my good lord, that is so cool!”  
“Back to the question, kiddo.”  
Ant scowls at the term ‘kiddo’ but it’s overshadowed by his childlike glee.  
“I don’t know why I did it. I just… I don’t know. It’s stupid,” his mouth falls into an uncertain frown, and his fingers dance along the edge of the cup in a nervous fashion.  
“Stupid answers are better than none at all,” Coulson bargains. Ant looks up nervously and bites his lip before attempting to answer.   
“I felt a pull… I guess I felt like I knew about you guys already. It made me happy, in a weird way, when I hacked in.” He drinks the last of his cup and places it on the table in front of him, and then his fingers pull towards his chest and he starts tapping away at his chest, right where the arc reactor would have been. “I felt like you guys were family.”  
He ducks his head, muttering something about it being silly, but the rest of the team have stood up to get a better look at the boy. However, their attention is drawn to the door when Fury steps in, takes one look at the boy and then turns to face the team.  
“What the fuck is Tony Stark doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited! If you spot any mistakes, feel free to let me know!


	3. I'm Not Who You Think I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting a little too much and they make a life changing discovery

Clint looks from Fury to Ant, his mouth gaping as he takes in what he’s implying.  
“What do you mean?” Natasha asks.  
“What I mean is, who is that child and why does he look exactly like Stark did when he was young?” Fury seems shocked by his own words, and he doesn’t look away from the boy the whole time, as though he’s transfixed. “Is… is that him?”  
No one offers him an answer, but Bruce stands up and leaves the room, reappearing in the interrogation room a second later to speak with Phil, whispering so low that they can’t hear. The boys eyes follow every move Bruce makes, and Clint doesn’t miss the way that the boy flinches when Bruce holds a hand out to be shaken. Bruce pulls back his arm like he’s been burned and looks furious.  
“Look, I get that you’re angry that I got through your pathetic excuse of security, but what do you want from me?” Ant asks, sitting up a little taller and narrowing his eyes.  
“I was wondering whether you would agree to let us take some blood. Maybe we can figure out who you are,” Bruce asks, gently.  
“No.”  
Bruce tilts his head, clearly confused and waits for an explanation that Clint can tell isn’t coming. When the boy notices what Bruce is silently asking of him, he looks towards the door and then back to Phil.  
Bruce seems to understand what the boy is thinking, and he takes that moment to move out of the room, and he rejoins the group upstairs.  
“What do you want from me?”  
“I want you to talk more. Tell me more about where you’re living.”  
Ant squirms in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with divulging details about his life, but he’s clever enough to know that lying or remaining silent might get him in more trouble than he is already in. Natasha can tell that the boy intends to say as little as possible, and she wants to ask why he’s so unwilling to offer that information.  
“I live in an apartment next to a school,” he explains, with a shrug.  
“Who with?”  
The boy tenses, and he looks down at the table to avoid making eye contact with the increasingly suspicious agent.  
“No one. I told you.”  
A lie, Coulson could smell it coming from a mile away, but he can’t figure out why the boy would be so reluctant with that truth. Rather than continuing down that particular line of inquiry, he moves onto other subjects, hoping to get a well-rounded idea of the boy.  
“And you go to school?”  
“No.”  
“But you live next to one?”  
“I don’t need to go to school. School is for stupid people, and I’m a lot of things but I’m not stupid. Not where it counts, at least.”  
It sounds so rehearsed, and so much like the self-deprecating lines that Tony used to spill that Coulson feels another shiver travel up his back.  
“If you didn’t go to school, where did you learn how to use a computer?”  
“I didn’t learn,” the boy shrugs again. His deep brown eyes study Coulson through long dark lashes, as though wondering how his next statement will be received. “I just… knew how to. I knew how to do a lot of things. I figured it was something to do with who I was before.”  
“Oh?”  
The boy’s face goes hard and he then raises an eyebrow at Phil, a smirk distorting his young face.   
“Was that a question, agent, or a response?”  
“A mixture of both. What else did you know when you woke up?”  
“I can speak a few languages, and I know how to drive a car, though I can’t really reach the pedals, yet. I knew my way around the city, and I… I can build things.”  
Coulson notes that the boy looks scared by that admission, and he knows straight away that there is something untoward going on that the boy doesn’t want to share. He isn’t sure that he is going to be given the information, so he decides that they can figure out where the boy came from in order to learn whether or not this something was a problem.  
“What did you do when you woke up?”  
“I just… wandered around for a while.”  
“You didn’t go get help?”  
“Why would anyone help me?” Ant looks up at Phil skeptically, and with so much innocence that Phil feels his heart twist.  
“Because you’re a child.” Phil tells him, almost imploringly.   
“I don’t think that that is as important to some people as it is to others,” Ant snorts. “Besides, no one wants to listen to a kid whine about being lost. If I expect to make it in this world, I should learn to take care of myself because no one else is going to step up.”  
Coulson nods, as if it’s totally normal for a child to claim that there isn’t a person in the world that would offer a helping hand to a kid, but his mouth remains taut. What’s more worrying is that he seems to have been taught several negative mantras, and that alone settles the internal debate about whether the kid is telling the truth about his living situation.  
“Give me a moment, please,” Coulson says and he stands up.  
Ant pushes the empty cup towards him and smiles sweetly, as though that is the perfect way to ask for more coffee. Phil shakes his head, but he picks up the cup and leaves, making his way back to the observation room. He hands the cup to Bruce who puts it into a lab bag and tells them he’ll be back soon. Phil then turns to Nat and Clint.  
“I need you to find out where this kid has been living. He’s not giving us any information, so you’re going to have to drop him back in Brooklyn and then follow him home.”  
They both nod and Phil returns to the room with another coffee. The boy takes one look at it and scowls.  
“You’re doing the DNA test without my permission? Isn’t that illegal?”  
If Phil is shocked by how sharp the child is, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he smiles.  
“So is hacking. We’ll call it repayment.”  
The boy drinks the coffee in a sullen silence and leans back in the chair looking tired.  
“When can I leave?”  
“Got someplace to be?”  
“As a matter of fact, I do. I can’t return home late because… my neighbours, they worry.”  
Coulson can tell that the boy had caught himself just before he gave away some vital piece of information, and he looks nervous at how close it had been. And then he starts tapping at his chest again, and Phil can’t stop himself from staring. It’s just so similar to how Stark would cope when he was nervous.  
“You’re free to go, Ant, but we will be in touch soon. I believe our computer guys would like to patch up the gaps in their security, and you’re the perfect person to do that.”  
Ant holds his hands out, and Phil dutifully unlocks the cuffs and stands up to guide the boy out of the room. Nat and Clint are waiting, and behind them stands Steve. Ant blinks several times when he see’s Steve, and he looks scared of the man. However, there is something else there, underneath the fear. Recognition.  
“Hello, son.” Steve holds out a hand for Ant to shake, but he does so slowly, so not to startle him. “Do you know who I am?”  
Ant seems to snap out of his brief daze and he offers Steve an unimpressed smile and returns the hand shake.  
“Of course I do. I don’t live under a rock. You’re Captain America.”  
“Do you remember any time that we might have met?”  
“What?” Confusion flashes across the boys face. “I… No. I don’t think… I don’t think that’s possible.”  
Steve looks as though he desperately wants to grab the boy and hug him, or at the very least shake the truth out of him, because there is a lot of hesitancy in his voice. Ant shakes his head again, as if trying to convince himself, but when he stops, he turns to Phil.  
“Can we go now? These people are weird as hell.”  
“Language.” Steve barks without any real weight to it.  
“Sorry, Cap,” the boy replies sarcastically and then freezes. “Uh, yeah, take me home.”  
The familiarity of the exchange seems to smack Steve in the face and he turns to stalk down the hall that leads to one of the more comfortable meeting rooms.  
Nat and Clint turn on their heels and begin to usher the boy back towards the Quinjet, and silently fly the boy back to the school that they found him in. He smiles awkwardly at them, before bidding them goodbye and walking away. They start following almost instantly, and although the boy is constantly looking over his shoulder, no doubt expecting them to be there, he never once see’s evidence of this.  
He walks through several alley ways and finally walks towards a large apartment complex, and he presses in a code before going inside. He becomes noticeably more nervous, and his shoulders hunch as though he’s trying to make himself appear smaller. Clint and Natasha both observe as the boy comes to a stop outside of an apartment on the fourth floor and stares at the door, shaking. Finally, he pulls out a key and lets himself in.  
They move onto the roof of the building opposite and watch through the window as Ant shuffles into the living room and flinches when another man comes into view. The man doesn’t lay a hand on the boy, but he’s screaming in Ant’s face, and the boy looks terrified to the point that he might pass out.  
“We need to figure out who that is, and how Tony came to be living with him,” Clint says, as they begin walking back towards the jet.  
“Ant,” Natasha corrected him. “You said Tony, but we’re jumping to conclusions here.”  
“Oh come on, Nat. The boy just so happened to wake up around the same time that the portal closed and oh so conveniently knew how to hack into computers, and how to build things? Not to mention the way he looks, and how he tapped his chest, right where the reactor would be.”  
Nat can’t argue with the facts, but she definitely feels strange thinking of that small child as her presumed to be dead friend.  
It isn’t until Bruce meets them back on the carrier with a look on his face that suggests they are going to get some really bad news that they come to terms with what they have all been thinking. That Ant is indeed their Tony Stark, just younger and with less memories.  
“How is this possible?” Clint asks. “I know we’ve seen a of things but… that’s something else.”  
“I’m not sure how it happened, but we should definitely focus on what is going to happen,” Bruce says. “We should bring him back, explain…”  
“Explain to a twelve year old boy that he’s actually almost fifty and that he is a super hero? I don’t think that’s wise,” Steve tells them, though it clearly pains him to be the voice of reason.  
“What do you suggest we do?” Bruce inquires, threading his fingers together.  
“I don’t know. This is uncharted territory, isn’t it? We should sit down and discuss it when we get all the facts. We can’t just uproot him, and I don’t know if we have any right to do so. He might be our Tony, but… well, he’s not. Not anymore.”


	4. He's Just Clumsy, ain't you, Kid?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ant doesn’t want to leave, but the avengers aren’t going to let him stay with a man who hurts children.

They have been sat down for three hours in near silence, staring at each other, waiting for someone to offer a suggestion that could help them out of their current predicament.  
“I mean, if the boy is living with someone, then do we have any right to break up a family?” Steve asks, looking to Clint.  
“I don’t think they boy likes living there,” Clint tells them. “I don’t know what their situation is, but I don’t think that the man has Tony’s best interests at heart.”  
Natasha nods in agreement, but she isn’t sure if she was only seeing what she wants to. She feels like they are scrounging for reasons to take the boy into their own care, and they are all coming up short.  
“I do not understand why we do not simply take the boy. He is ours, after all,” Thor reasons, looking around the table hopefully.  
“As much as I’d like to do that, it’s more complicated than that. He doesn’t remember us, and that makes deciding where we go from here a little… hazy. We don’t have any claim to him, and I don’t know whether reminding him of who he used to be is a good idea. It will probably be distressing more than anything.”  
Steve is talking sense, but no one wants to hear it any more than he wants to say it. They all just want to take their friend back to the tower, his tower, and reintroduce him to his old life. Maybe if they can fix whatever left him as a child, they can have their friend back. It is almost too painful to contemplate any other alternative.  
“I’ve done a little research into the man that Tony is living with, only to discover that he doesn’t exist,” Natasha starts. “The apartment they are living in is being rented to a lovely elderly couple, who don’t exist. I think we may need to confront the man, ask why he’s living under a false name and how he came into Tony’s life. If anything happens that shouldn’t, we take him and damn the consequences.”  
That seems to be what they are all willing to agree on, because they disperse. Clint and Natasha go to get Phil and without saying another word, they all meet at the Quinjet and board, ready to get their Tony back.

~~~

  
Ant is hunched up in the corner of the living room, holding his ribs where he’s been kicked. He is staring up at Rick, who’s seething anger is slowly receding. Ant sees the softness of his features, and hesitantly holds out a hand, silently asking for help getting to his feet.  
Rick reaches down and picks up Ant, carrying him over to the sofa. He kisses his forehead and cards a hand through his hair. Ant leans into his touch and Rick smiles down at him with so much love that it’s almost as if Ant is the mans son.  
“I’m sorry, Ant. I didn’t mean to do that, but you know the rules. You can’t just disappear without telling me where you’re going.”  
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Ant mumbles, ashamed. “I won’t do it again.”  
“I know you won’t. Now, you’ve got ten minutes to rest, but you have some building to do, because you need to make it up to me, understand?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Ant only allows himself to rest for five minutes before he walks into the room adjacent to the living room and sits down in front of the work bench. Rick has been making him build him things for a long time now, ever since he found the kid in an alley way, sick and alone. He took him in and gave him food, and in return, Ant builds him weapons. He hates doing it, but he has no-where else to go, and Rick loves him. He’s sure of it.  
It’s not like he knew of another life anyway.  
But, maybe he does. Talking to that agent man brought up some weird feelings in Ant. Seeing them in person really was the selling point, because he’s been so sure that he knew them before, and now he is certain. He doesn’t understand how it is possible, since they didn’t even know his name.  
He just puts those thoughts to the side for now, because it won’t help his work efficiently. He has to make it up to Rick and the sooner he does that the better.

~~~

  
He’s at the workbench for hours and hours and he doesn’t even realise it’s morning again until Rick comes in to inspect his progress.  
“Morning champ. Glad to see you’ve been working all night. You know I love it when you put all the effort in.”  
Ant simply nods, too tired to string a sentence together.  
“How long until it’s done?”  
“Um, just a few more hours I think.”  
“Excellent, I-“  
He’s cut off by a knock at the door and both he and Ant look up confused.  
“Did you invite anyone over?” Rick asks, as he slowly walks over to the door.  
Ant shakes his head, a sinking feeling playing havoc in his stomach. He finds himself silently praying that it’s not the avengers. They’re only going to mess things up, and he doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with the fall-out from that.  
“Hello, is Ant here?” Comes the unmistakable voice of Captain America.  
Ant puts his face in his hands and prepares himself for the backlash.  
“Ant, my boy, come in here!”  
Ant heaves himself up from the bench, and has to grip the table edge until the dizziness fades. Alongside the pain in his ribs, he has also been sat down all night, only moving a little when he leans over to brew another coffee. Now it’s all catching up to him.  
“ANT!”  
Ant flinches and leaves the room, painting a smile on his face.   
“Sorry, I was listening to music,” Ant lies, as he moves to stand at Ricks side.  
Rick places a heavy hand on Ant’s shoulder and the movement sends a shock of pain vibrating through his rib cage. He forces himself to grin through it, but something like understanding passes over Clint’s face, and Ant feels himself shaking.  
“How can we help you, sirs and Madame?” Ant asks, trying to appear polite and ignorant to who they are. Maybe Rick won’t ask any questions if he can make them leave without giving him away.  
“I thought you said you lived alone?” Natasha asks, shattering any illusion Ant has been manifesting about not knowing them.  
“Uh, right. Rick, this is Steve, Clint, Natasha and Phil. They’re uh… I met them at the library today,” Ant doesn’t look up at Rick, but the tightening of his hand on his shoulder suggests that he’s angry. “Guys, this is Rick. He’s… my friend.”  
“Oh, Ant,” Rick laughs, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. “Are you ashamed of me? I’m your godfather. I don’t see why you’d keep that a secret.”  
Ant hangs his head, knowing that there’s no way around this now. These people can see through a lie before its even told, and Ant already admitted that he has no memories of who he was before he woke up. Rick should have let Ant do the talking. They both know who the smarter of the pair is.  
“Oh really?” Natasha challenges, looking at Ant and then back up to Rick. “Care to tell me why this apartment is registered to an elderly couple?”  
“My parents pay for it,” Rick supplies, though Natasha’s face suggests that she doesn’t believe him for a second.  
“Rick, come on. We don’t have to talk to them,” Ant says, trying to disappear back into the apartment.  
“You’re right, kid, but for some reason these people are convinced that I’m lying about something, and I want to know why. And why are they so invested in you?”  
Ant doesn’t have a response ready at hand, so instead he shrugs, forgetting that it would pull at the wrong parts of his body, and he gasps from the unexpected pain. Before he even has the chance to cover up his reaction with a cough, Clint has hold of his arm and is dragging him out of the apartment and into the hallway. Rick moves, but Natasha stands in front of him, a knife to his throat.  
“Let him go!” Ant protests, trying to pull away from Clint. “You have no right to do this. Let me go!”  
Clint ignores him, and instead starts to press tentative fingers along the boys ribs, and he knows what is going to happen, and he has no way to hide broken ribs from exploratory fingers.   
“Don’t! Go away!”  
He tries to shift away, but Clint’s grip is firm and eventually he finds the broken ribs.  
“Three broken ribs, and I’m going to guess that there’s a lot of bruising, huh, kid?”  
Ant glares at Clint with as much fury as he could muster, and tries to kick him. Clint seems to anticipate this, and dodges out of the way.  
“You’ve been hurting him?” Steve asks, shaking with anger and turning to face Rick.  
“No. He’s just clumsy. Ain't you kid? Ain't you clumsy?”  
“I am!” He tells them imploringly.   
Ant nods too enthusiastically, latching onto the lie like a sloth to a tree branch. He’ll say anything if it means that they leave, even if it means that Rick is going to beat seven layers of hell into him the moment they do. He knows it’ll be better to deal with that now, because it’ll hurt but it’ll be over quickly. If they try and take him, Rick will bring him back and that will be a thousand times worse. Besides, it’s Thursday, and Rick always orders food in on thursdays and they watch movies together.  
“I fell down the stairs when I was going to the store,” Ant tells them, still struggling in Clint’s grip. “I’m honestly such a clutz, it’s a wonder that I’m not black and blue all the time.”  
Clint looks sympathetic, and Ant looks around at them all, knowing that they don’t believe a word that he is saying.   
Ant tries to twist out of Clint’s grip, but they man just takes a handful of the back of Ant’s hoody, and holds him at an arms length. Ant aims a punch at Clint’s face, and he misses by an inch.  
“Dammit, kid. Stop! We’re trying to help you!”  
“Why do you even care? Just leave me alone!” Ant shouts, trying to pull himself away. “Just let it go.”  
“No, sorry kid, but that’s not how this going to go,” Phil says, turning to face Rick. “You, sir, are under arrest.”


	5. He's practically Houdini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital sheds some light on the life Tony had been living.

Ant sits in the back of the car, staring at the floor while Clint is on one side and Steve is on the other, blocking him from getting to the door. They’ve already reached a speed in which he knows jumping out will be a death wish, but they seem to have guessed that it is on his mind and decided to barricade him in.  
“Look, we’re going to take you to the hospital, OK? And then you’re coming back with us.” Clint explains.  
“No. I don’t want to. I don’t like hospitals, and I don’t like you.”  
Steve rolls his eyes, and shares a look with Clint. They both want to beat Rick senseless, but mindless violence isn’t the way to go about dealing with this situation. They feel so hopeless knowing that their friend didn’t just manage to evade death, but he was also in a vulnerable state and has been being abused for god knows how long. And they didn’t do anything. They feel like they owe it to him at this point, kid or not.  
They pull up to the hospital, and Clint and Steve both climb from the car and wait for Ant to follow. He doesn’t, instead he folds his arms and presses his back into the seat, as if he could melt into it and avoid them forever.  
“Don’t make me carry you, kid.” Clint warns.  
Ant makes no move to get out of the car, and Clint sighs heavily, leaning in and putting his arms under Ant’s knees and behind his back. He lifts the boy from the car, who immediately starts to struggle, but the pain makes his movements weak.  
“Stranger Danger!” Ant calls, trying to make a spectacle of himself. “Help me! They’re trying to kidnap me!”  
He really doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but he especially doesn’t want to go here. He hadn’t thought they could get worse, but this hospital is definitely opening a door for the day to go from worse to horrendous. He just has to pray-  
“Little Anthony?”  
“Crap,” Ant mutters under his breath. He pushes against Clint’s chest and the man finally gets the message.  
Clint slowly lowers the boy to the floor, but he keeps a grip on his shoulder. It doesn’t hurt, but Ant recognizes that he won’t be able to get away.  
“Hey, Stacey. It’s uh, nice to see you again.”  
Stacey takes a long, searching look at Ant and then moves her attention to the two avengers that have escorted him there. Natasha and Phil are taking Rick into custody, and the rest of the team are at the tower, preparing Tony’s new room.  
“You know I hate that you show up here, so no, it’s not nice to see you again. Who are these people and what’re you here for this time?”  
Ant hangs his head, knowing that there is probably very little he can do to contain the information that Stacey will end up sharing with the two men, and it’ll severely lower his chances of being put back into Rick’s custody when she does.  
“Stacey, meet Clint and Steve.”  
Stacey holds out a hand, and the two men shake it before following her inside. Ant feels like his heart is hammering away in his chest with each step that he takes. He just keeps thinking ‘oh shit, oh shit, oh shit’ over and over.  
“In here, please,” Stacey instructs, holding open the door to a small examination room. “So, out with it, Ant. What’d he do this time?”  
Ant groans, which quickly turned into a squeak as Clint lifts him onto the bed.  
“Dammit, I’m not a kid. You can’t just man-handle me,” Ant curses.  
“He’s got three broken ribs,” Steve explains. “And what do you mean ‘this time’?”  
Stacey immediately moves over to Ant and helps him take his shirt off. Clint sucks in a breath when he sees the bruises that decorates the boys torso, and Steve audibly growls.  
“You guys can totally leave now, you know. You’ve already arrested the only person I know. You can ditch if you want.”  
“You arrested that bastard?” Stacey asks, looking to the both men appreciatively. “Thank god.”  
“Ow, watch where you’re prodding,” Ant hisses, as she begins to feel for the broken ribs. “I’m delicate.”  
Stacey snorts indelicately and shakes her head in exasperation. Finally, after thoroughly checking him over, she moves to get a few rolls of elasticated bandages and wraps him up as best she could. She then writes out a prescription and hands it over to Steve.  
“He doesn’t like being handed things,” she explains, as she helps Ant with his shirt. “He should rest for a few weeks, and those pills will help with the pain. As for the bruises, just put some ice on it. There’s not much you can do about it, but the pills should help with the pain.”  
Ant doesn’t look at any of them as she talks, because he feels that he’s getting off easy. Maybe she won’t go into detail after all.  
“So, you arrested the prick that’s been sending this kid to my hospital for the past three years?”  
Ant groans and gingerly lays back on the bed, wanting as little to do with the conversation as possible. He is never going to get over this, and he’s spent almost three years avoiding people knowing.  
“Yes. He’s probably going to be going away for a while now,” Steve tells her. “Now, I need to ask. If you knew this was happening, why didn’t you do anything to stop it?”  
“Hey!” Ant shouts, shocked by how accusatory Steve sounds. “Don’t speak to her like that.”  
“Oh, you’re my knight in shining armour, Ant. Always coming to my rescue when someone thinks they can talk down to me,” Stacey rolls her eyes and then focuses on Steve, and she looks scary. “You honestly think I haven’t tried? That I haven’t attempted to restrain the kid while I called the police, or that I haven’t had people follow him home? He’s practically Houdini, there’s no way to lock him up, and he never gave us his home address and always managed to evade my staff. It’s been like this for years now. He comes in, I patch him up, he runs away.”  
Ant smirks a little at this, clearly proud of his achievements, and gives Clint and Steve a pointed look, as though challenging them to doubt his abilities. He is essentially warning them that he can leave the moment he wants to, but is merely humouring them for the time being.  
“And you never just decided to knock him out?”  
Stacey gasps at the suggestion and then shakes her head in disapproval.  
“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s dangerous enough to do when it’s necessary. I can’t risk that,” she shakes her head again. “I expect you to be here in one month, Ant. I want to check on your healing progress. I feel slightly more confident that this will happen now that you’re not living with that man.”  
“Before we leave, can you give me any details on the kinds of injuries he’s come in here with?” Clint requests, looking slightly sick, as though he knows the answer already. “It’ll help with out investigation.”  
“I have a copy of his medical files right here,” Stacey says, pulling out a folder thicker than the bible.  
“Um, doctor patient confidentiality?” Ant reminds her, a little too forcefully.  
“You’re a minor, and since you don’t have a legal guardian, I’m going to assume you’ve been put into the care of the avengers. I trust them, and you should too,” She smiles conspiratorially with the two men, before giving Ant a quick kiss on the cheek and leaving.  
“Holy hell, Ant. This is… a lot,” Clint grumbles as he flips through the papers. “How come you never left of your own accord?”  
Ant chooses to ignore the question, and instead climbs down from the bed and makes his way to the door. He hears the two men start following him, and Steve walks ahead to pick up the pain pills from the pharmacist. They all go back to the car, which takes off straight away.  
A man in he front seat smiles kindly at Ant in the rear view mirror, and something about his eyes stirs a thought in Ants mind. He knows that man, but before he can think too much about it, he notices that the car is driving to the other side of town.  
“Where are you taking me?”  
“Home, Tony. We’re taking you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited.


	6. Welcome Home, Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Tony returns to the tower and he's conflicted. Everything feels so familiar, but he doesn't recognise anything.

Ant doesn’t say anything to the use of the name ‘Tony’ but he looks down at the floor, confused, as if he doesn’t understand what it means. He’s quiet for the rest of the journey, ignoring Steve’s insistence that he should take pain pills.  
“No. It’s normal to feel pain. I can handle it. Stark men are made of iron...”  
Ant looks like he’s just called his teacher ‘mom’ and his cheeks burn. Steve wants to pull him towards him to hug him, but he doesn’t think physical actions will be appreciated. Both Steve and Clint know that some of his memories must be in there for him to be able to recite lines from his first childhood, but they won’t push him.  
“Welcome home,” Steve says as he climbs out of the car and stands in front of the Avengers tower.  
“This isn’t my home,” Ant deadpans.  
“We’ll see about that.”  
Ant follows them into the building, and he shivers. It’s not cold. Quite the opposite. It’s the perfect temperature for him. But it feels strange to be there, like he belongs, but he doesn’t want to feel like he belongs.  
“Jarvis, we’ve brought Tony home,” Clint says.  
Ant can’t see anyone around, but a voice replies nonetheless.  
“Welcome home sir. I’ve waited a long time to see you again.”  
Ant’s heart almost stops. He looks around for the sound of the voice, but he can’t see anyone or anything. The voice. It’s stirring something up inside of him. He can’t describe it, but it’s like he’s known the voice all of his life. An image of an elderly man flashes through his mind. The face is so caring, so loving, and it hurts. Ant has to force himself not to cry, because crying would be stupid, a weakness, and he’s not a kid anymore. He can’t indulge in his stupid emotions.  
Steve and Clint both observe his reaction, and they don’t seem disappointed, but they don’t appear to be enthralled either.  
“Do you remember anything?” They ask. Ant shakes his head a little too forcefully, to the point that there’s no way that they can’t know that he’s lying.  
“Let’s show you your room,” Steve says. “And then you can meet the whole team, properly this time.”  
Ant nods, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to feel that again.  
Ant follows them into an elevator and they travel up several dozen floors. Ant keeps looking up at the ceiling, and he is overcome with the need to talk to it. He wants to ask Jarvis questions, and he instinctively knows it will reply. He will reply.  
“This is the communal floor. Well show you your old room, but you’ll be staying here for now, so that we can look out for you,” Steve explains.  
“Thanks cap, but I don’t need a baby sitter.”  
Steve flinches at the nickname, but Ant doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s taking in the lounge area with greedy eyes. He’s trying to see everything, and maybe even understand why this place feels so... right. It’s disconcerting to not recognise a place but feel so at home in it.  
“Bruce and Thor will be here soon. Bucky is out on a mission, but will return in a few days. Natasha and Phil will be back tonight. We’ve got some other people you might want to meet too. They’re your best friends. Pepper and Rhodey,” Steve tells him in a low voice.  
Ant looks up at this. He wants to see Rhodey, but can’t figure out why. It’s like he wants to talk to this person about everything that has happened, call him by a pet name and drink with him, even though Ant is sure he’s never touched alcohol before. He can taste vodka on his tongue just thinking about it. How odd.  
“They’ll be here later. You can get reacquainted.”  
“Can I just... go to my room?” Ant asks.  
For the time being he guesses that he just needs to play along with their weird game, and he so badly wants to talk to the voice in the ceiling, and more than anything, he wants to be alone.  
“Sure, it’s right through here,” Clint says, leading Ant to a room in the first door from the lounge.  
The room is filled with books and there’s a large screen TV and a computer with multiple monitors. His fingers itch to roam around in it, but he goes to lay down on the bed. Clint watches for a moment, but then leaves, closing the door until it’s only slightly ajar.  
“Jarvis?” Ant starts, nervously.  
“Yes, sir?”  
“We know each other, right?”  
“More than that, sir. You created me.”  
Ant stares at the ceiling confused and awed. He made a person? That’s pretty cool.  
“How old was I?”  
“You were forty-five, sir, but you were pretty insistent that you were thirty-nine.”  
Ant snorts a laugh, and smiles at the ceiling. This feels normal, natural, and even though the laughter hurts his ribs, it feels good.  
“How am I twelve now, if I should he forty-eight?”  
“I don’t know, sir. I believe the avengers are looking into that, in the hopes of reversing it.”  
“How do I know they don’t want to use me? To make things for them. Rick… I used to make things for him. It’s all I know, but I don’t think I want to do that anymore. Did I... did I do that for them before?”  
“Sir, my primary function is to protect you. I can assure you that the Avengers would never think to take advantage of you like that, but I would not let them.”  
“Oh. Thanks Jarvis.”  
The voice doesn’t say anything else and Ant forgets about the last question, but Ant is almost certain that if a bodiless being could nod smugly, Jarvis would be doing that exact thing right now. He feels like family. Ant wants Jarvis to hold him, to hug him, to promise he’ll never let anything happen to him again, but he knows that’s not possible, so he settles for hugging a pillow to his chest.  
Hours pass before Clint and Steve return to his room.  
“Tony, Rhodey and Pepper are here. Are you ready to meet them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words.  
> I've been writing for years, but mostly for other people and for university work. It's amazing to be able to share it and get such lovely responses.  
> If you have any suggestions, please let me know and I'll see if I can fit them in. I've kind of working plotless at the moment, and just winging it.


	7. Le Maison De Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when they thought they were making progress, something triggers Tony and he suddenly wants to leave again.

Ant follows them from the bedroom and into the lounge and there are two people sat on the couch. One is a beautiful red headed girl and the other is mostly bald dude with dark, chocolaty skin. Ant can’t stop the tears that push past his exterior and slide down his face. He roughly pushes them away and looks away from them.  
He has to fight against his instincts to simply run towards them both and embrace them. He wants to, so badly, but it wouldn’t be right. He’s never been hugged before, so he can’t just…  
“Tony?” Rhodey says his name with such hesitancy, and so much hurt that Ant feels guilty.  
“It’s Ant,” he replies, lamely.  
“Oh god,” Pepper cries, burying her face in Rhodey’s chest.  
Ant takes a step back, horrified that he’s made her cry. He’s only known her for a few minutes. He can’t do anything right.  
“Don’t worry. She’s just emotional,” Rhodey tells him, smile lines crinkling around his eyes.  
“Your observational powers are astounding, Honey Bear,” Ant quips, and his face turns to stone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I don’t know where that came from.”  
Rhodey takes a step forward and Ant turns on his heel and runs back to the room. He closes the door and leans against it, breathing heavily.  
“Jarvis, who are those people?”  
“They are your best friends, Sir. Pepper is the CEO of your company, and Rhodes has been with you since you started MIT. They are the people you are most comfortable with. The people you love the most.”  
“I went to MIT?” Ant muses aloud, shocked.  
“Of course that’s the thing you focus on,” Rhodey’s voice says through the door, and Ant can hear the smile on his face. “Look, I get that this is overwhelming, but you know who we are. You can feel it, can’t you?”  
Ant nods, before remembering that Rhodey can’t see him.  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
“I thought so. I’ve been a big part of your life for too long. There’s no way you can forget me so easily.”  
Ant laughs, and then groans in pain. Rhodey knocks on the door, and Ant decides to let him in. Pepper is with him, but the others have chosen to hang in the lounge, respecting their privacy. The both enter and make themselves comfortable on his bed. Ant stands in front of them, awkwardly.  
“Come on, sit down,” Pepper encourages.  
Her eyes are rimmed red, and Rhodey has a hand on her shoulder. Ant wonders if they’re together, and he feels a strange pang of jealously.  
“We… how well did we know each other?” He asks, tentatively, as he moves to sit between them.  
“Well, you and I have been best friends since, like, forever.” Rhodey says with a high voice. “You and Pepper, well, you were a different kind of friends.”  
“I’m sorry,” Ant replies.  
He doesn’t feel the point in deny how all of this is super messed up, but there has to be some truth in their words, because he can feel it. He knows that he loved this woman in a way that he had never loved anyone before, but it feels so distant. Like it’s at the end of a corridor and he can’t get to it, because the corridor just keeps getting longer and longer. That’s how all of these weird memories feel. Real, but unreachable.  
“What on earth are you apologising for?” Pepper asks.  
“I should remember you better, but I don’t.”  
“Not your fault. Something has happened to you. You can’t help it.”  
Ant nods, but he still feels guilty.  
“We’re just glad you’re alive. The day we thought you died… We…” Pepper chokes on her words, and more tell-tale tears fall down her face. “It was awful.”  
“How did it happen?”  
Rhodey and Pepper shift, uncomfortably. This only peaks Ant’s interest.  
“Jarvis, can you show me the day I died?”  
Ant doesn’t know why he knows the answer before he gets it, but he’s unsurprised with the TV turns itself on, and he’s watching himself, as an older man, talking.  
A voice rings through the room, telling him that it’s a one way trip, and then he watches as the voice in the suit tries to call pepper for him. She doesn’t answer, and the Pepper beside him starts crying softly. And then, darkness. The suit he’s in shuts down and everything grows silent.  
“That’s weird. What was that suit? And was that Steve talking? And Jarvis?”  
“Yes sir, that was myself and Captain Rodgers. As for the suit, you built it and used it to help people. You were called the ‘Iron Man’.”  
“That didn’t look like it was made of Iron,” Ant says.  
Rhodey laughs, and Ant doesn’t know why, but he knows that it’s not aimed at him. He smiles at the man, and then turns back to the now blank TV screen.  
“Was I… Am I a super hero?”  
Pepper nods, drying away her tears.  
“Yeah. You were a great man, Tony. The greatest mind of our generation, and you brought the entire world into a new era. You even achieved world peace for a short time. You gave away money to charities, and helped people across the earth.”  
“Me?” Tony asks, doubtful.  
“There’s the self-deprecation we all know and love. Yes, you.” Rhodey places a hand on his shoulder, and he doesn’t miss when Ant flinches.  
“I find it really hard to believe,” Ant murmurs. “That I even have… had friends is a surprise.”  
Pepper reaches for his hand and squeezes it.  
“Have. You still have friends. We’ll help you remember, and we’ll help you get back to who you were. We promise.”  
And for whatever reason, Ant believes them.

  
~~~

  
The next day, after he’s woken up, they feed him breakfast and coffee, and even manage to convince him to take some pain pills. He hadn’t slept much the night before, because his dreams were plagued with nightmares. He kept seeing the deep, vastness of space, and experienced the feeling of falling. He blames his tiredness for him taking the pills, because he’s not normally so agreeable.  
And the moment he did, he started to feel fuzzy. His brain felt detached, and his tongue loosened up more than he’d normally allow.  
“Can I have more coffee?”  
“Yes, you can.” Bruce replies, raising an eyebrow, but not a finger.  
“Ok. May I have more coffee?”  
“Oui.”  
Ant pouts at the pedantries of the doctor, but it’s quickly exchanged for a loving smile with the mug in his hand. He takes a long gulp, and then stands up.  
“Ok, lets get the grand tour of le maison de Stark underway. If I’ve learnt anything about me, it’s that I was cool as hell. I expect some awesome stuff.”  
“You won’t be disappointed.”  
Ant looks up and around the room, but he can’t see Clint. He’s about to ask, when the vent opens and Clint jumps down with unexpected grace and bows. Ant shakes his head, and has to blink away the sudden feeling of nausea. These pain pills might take away the aches of his body, but he can’t decide whether feeling ill is worth it.  
“Hawk-ass, everyone. What a show,” Ant rolls his eyes and walks towards the elevator, ignoring the tilt of Clint’s head and a happy smile thats dominating his face.  
“He’s coming back to us,” Clint whispers.  
“He doesn’t even know it yet,” Bruce replies, feeling over-joyed.  
“Am I going to be waiting all day for you two to finish whispering sweet nothings in each others ears, or can I see where I used to build stuff?”  
“You remember your workshop?” Bruce asks, brows raised.  
“Not exactly. I remember having a place that I loved more than anywhere else. I have the strangest feeling that I spent more time there than I did outside of it.”  
“That’s accurate. Sometimes you wouldn’t leave for days. Steve used to carry you to bed when you fell asleep on your work table.”  
Ant scrunches up his face and looks to his left as Steve emerges, his hair escew and his clothes rumpled.  
“Morning, star spangles. We’re going on a tour. Care to join us?”  
“Uh, sure.”  
Steve joins their little tour group and they make their way downstairs into the labs. Ant’s face lights up at the room, and he walks around, trailing his hands over the work tops. He stands in front of all of his suits, and then walks towards DUM-E.  
The bot makes a loud screeching sound, and Bruce almost rushes forward to assist Ant in case it freaks him out, but instead the boy takes the robots claw in his own hand and smiles so widely that they can see all of his teeth.  
“I made you,” he whispers, in awe of himself. “You’re my first born child, aren’t you?”  
DUM-E moves his claw up and down, like he’s nodding, and Ant laughs. He turns around to look at them all, grinning with pride. Something changes, almost in an instant, and the boy looks devastated.  
“Where’s Rick?”  
Bruce detects fear in the boys voice, but it’s not of the man he had lived with. It’s them. They’d thought they were making so much progress, but it’s as though the whole thing went out of the window.


	8. Juxtaposition in realities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meltdowns and meetings. And AC/DC. Always AC/DC.

Ant stands in the workshop, staring at the men as though he’s never seen them before in his life. He looks more like a deer in headlights than he does the man he used to be, and Steve, Clint and Bruce are at a loss.  
“Please, just take me to Rick. He’s gonna be so mad. Maybe if I build him a bigger gun, he won’t... well, not as bad... just, the sooner I’m home the sooner it’s over. Please-“  
Clint rushes forward to grab the boy before he turns to hysterics. Ant begins to pull at his hair, his distress streaming out of his eyes in the form of tears, and his knees buckling.  
“What is happening?” Steve asks, staring down at the mess of a boy. “He was fine just a second ago.”  
“I believe he’s caught between two realities,” Bruce says, worriedly. “The more he remembers about his old life, the more he has to insert that into his life now. This is the second time he’s been 12 and the two realities are clashing.”  
“Ok, news flash, I don’t understand,” Clint pipes up, still holding the boy.  
“His brain can’t comprehend it,” Bruce puts it simply. “He’s fighting both sets of memories. He can’t decide which one is reality, but he’s leaning towards the the one with Rick because it’s most recent and...”  
Bruce pulls himself back. It’s not his place to talk about Tony’s past, but he knows that the way Rick was treating him wasn’t too much different to what he’s experienced the first time around. How do you tear apart two juxtaposing ideas when they seem the same?  
Clint was rubbing a hand up and down the boys back who was crying more softly now, and Clint himself looked conflicted. He wants to find Rick and inflict some real pain onto the man, but he also wants to comfort Tony.  
“Let’s take you up to your room,” Clint suggests, helping the boy to his feet, a hand gripping his upper arm for support. “You might benefit from a lay down.”  
Emotions flirted across the boys face a mile a minute. Anger, confusion, sadness.  
“No. I like this room,” he complains.  
“Yeah? That why you just broke down in it?” Clint asks, tactlessly.  
Ant frowns, as if trying to find an answer, and that’s all the encouragement Clint needs. Real Tony would have had a witty remark ready to throw back, but he’s just too befuddled to offer a real response. He barely struggles against being lead back to the elevator.  
“Perhaps Sir would appreciate listening to some of his favorite music?” Jarvis suggests, which elicits a groan from everyone except Tony.  
“What’s my favorite music?”  
In response, AC/DC starts blasting in the elevator, and a small smile perks up Tony’s face.  
“Nice,” he whispers, staring at the ceiling with gratitude.  
Clint and Steve both shake their heads, but Bruce is stoic as ever. He just smiles at the boy, though he’s worried about his fragile emotional state. The boy obviously doesn’t know what to do with his thoughts and memories. He’d suggest therapy, but at this moment in time, no one can know that Tony Stark has been reverted back to a twelve year old boy, lest it bring his old enemies out of the woodwork. Besides, what Psychologist could possible have the ability to help someone in such an unprecedented situation? The boy is caught between two worlds, and neither has offered him much comfort. Another worrying thought crosses Bruce’s mind. What if the reason he’s clinging onto the life he had with Rick is because it’s better than what he had before. Bruce had never tried to pry before, but he is now wondering just how bad Howard had been.

  
~~~

  
Tony has fallen into a strange stupor in his room, listening to the same AC/DC album over and over again while Clint, Natasha, Phil, Thor, Steve and Bruce convene in the kitchen area to discuss the repercussions of his outburst.  
“There’s going to be more than one,” Bruce warns them. “We’re just going to need to be there, and really enforce this reality onto him. It’s not ideal, but unfortunately there isn’t an alternative that quite meets that description. Pepper and Rhodey helped, but between them they don’t have the time to spare.”  
“What would we have to do to enforce this? It sounds kind of like we’re strong arming this life onto him,” Steve voices cautiously. “I don’t want to push him into anything that might not help.”  
“I’m with Steve here. Maybe if you worded it differently, in a way that sounds less... violent,” Clint searches for the word and he appears to be tasting on his tongue. “I’m not comfortable with that at all.”  
“Our comfort isn’t what we should be thinking of, surely?” Thor questions, looking at each of his teammates in turn. “Will this be the most beneficial way forward, Bruce?”  
“I believe so. Until were able to find a way to reverse it, which so far we’ve not found ourselves any closer to an answer, we just have to stick to one plan, and see it through.”  
“Um, should I really be here for this?” Bucky asks, his thick Brooklyn accent making a rare appearance. “I don’t know the kid. He didn’t know me, either.”  
“He’ll know of you,” Steve reassures. “Besides, you’re a part of this team now.”  
Bucky nods, though he lacks conviction. He’s still having problems coming to terms with the idea of being free from HYDRA and being so willingly accepted into a team.  
“I have interrogated Rick,” Natasha says, earning her the attention of the group. “He was easier to crack than an egg, and we’ve learnt some pretty disturbing facts about his lifestyle for the past three years. According to that monstrosity, Tony was lost and starving in the streets when he took him in and fed him. I truly believe that the arrangement started off with selfless kindness, but Rick has been a career criminal for years and when he saw that Tony was capable of building things, he decided to use it.”  
“If it started off as a kindness, why did he started... hurting him? Did he refuse?”  
“Apparently not. When he was found, Tony was compliant and naive enough to do what was asked without understanding the outcome of his actions. It wasn’t until he, and get this, watched Harry Potter for the first time that he started to question what Rick was doing. Apparently he started getting testy, and mouthed off a lot. Rick got quickly tired of it and that’s when... it got bad.”  
Green flashes through Bruce’s eyes and Natasha reaches out to grab his hands in an attempt to ground him and avoid any unfortunate incidents.  
“His medical records were extensive,” Clint says, sadly. “Tony had experienced severe trauma in the form of broken bones, concussions and on one occasion, he was hit so hard that his lung collapsed and he fractured all the ribs on his left side. The nurse told us that she was never able to keep Tony around long enough to give him help beyond the medical kind, and if that doesn’t sound like the man we all knew and loved, I don’t know what does. He never stopped being stubborn. Never stopped knowing right from wrong, even if it meant he got hurt in the process.”  
They all fell silent, not knowing where to take the conversation from there. They all know that the boy in the next room is their team mate, their friend, but that fact only made hearing these things worse.  
They all feel so guilty about what he’s been suffering through, and that they were unable to stop it.  
“Sirs and Madame,” Jarvis’ voice calls out. “I’ve reached the ten minute limit, and I’m now able to inform you that Young Sir has made a bid for freedom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so much fun. I love your comments


	9. You didn't deserve that, kid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ant runs away, with the plan to help Rick escape prison, but things don't go to plan, because when does anything ever go to plan?

Ant had been laying on his bed for exactly three minutes after the team left him on his own before he seizes the opportunity to get onto the computer.  
Ant has a lot of elements that he slots so comfortably into, and for some reason listening to rock music while sitting at a computer is one of them. He barely has to think about what he is doing, as though he is on autopilot, and he sends several orders to Jarvis in the form of code. He’d orders the marvellous voice in the sky to remain on mute for ten minutes, which is all the time he’ll need to get the hell out of dodge and find Rick.  
The moment he knows Jarvis isn’t going to snitch on him, Ant pries the vent cover off of the wall and gently lays it on his bed. Then, using the computer desk for help, he hoists himself into the ventilation system. He’s never been inside one of these before, but he’s always been curious. His curiosity, however, would have to sit on the sidelines for now. What he needs is to keep his head together and find a route to the next floor down. He can’t let himself get sidetracked by the possibilities that would arise if he familiarised himself with the layout.  
He army crawls in and takes turns that he knew will lead him away from the outer layer of the building, but that won’t lead him into the communal area of the floor. With what are clearly two spies, he doesn’t think he can remain quiet enough to avoid being caught.  
He can hear their conversation loud and clear though, and he grimaces when he realised they are talking about him. How wonderful. He hasn’t been aware that he was such a wonderful topic. Not that he’d underestimate how great he is, but these guys don’t know the half of it. In Ant’s opinion, he could probably host the Oscars, his personality is so glorious.  
Ego aside, Ant tries not to listen in. Not for want, but for remaining distraction free and it pays off, because he opens another vent grate that leads into the elevator shaft.  
He lowers himself down, allowing the sharp drop to be absorbed into his bent legs, before gently lifting the maintenance latch on the elevator roof.  
After ducking his head in to make sure the doors were closed, he drops himself inside and presses the button for the first floor.  
He is feeling pretty smug about himself as the doors open and he runs to the front of the building and walks out into the fresh air. He jogs away from the tower and for good measure, flips it off (something he’s seen Rick do countless times when watching Baseball on TV).  
Ant doesn’t hold any delusions about how quickly they would find him if he hangs around the area for too long, and his internal clock suggests that he has around two minutes to dine and ditch before the meat-heads come after him.  
He hails a cab, jumps in and asks the driver to take him to central park.  
“You got money to pay for that, kid?” The driver huffs.  
Ant raises an eyebrow and waves a wad of twenties in front of the cab driver, who nods and drives away. Ant would have liked to have gone to his old apartment, but he is sure that it would be the first place they’d look for him.  
No, he’s smarter than that. He needs to stay somewhere public, but where he could connect to a public internet network. He has a suspicion about where Rick is being kept, and he is going to back into their systems to set him free.

  
~~~

  
The avengers need no further words to send them into a flurry of action. They rush to the elevator, and it’s Clint who notices the panel has been removed.  
“Oh, he’s clever, but if he found my secret stash of brownies and ate them, I’ll never forgive him.”  
“Dammit Clint, can’t you focus your attention for one minute?”  
“I’m the worlds greatest marksman. Do you really think that’s a question befitting I?”  
The elevator came to a smooth stop on the bottom floor, and the avengers disperse.  
“I shall take to the skies and search for our young friend there,” Thor tells them before waving Mjolnir and, in a clap of thunder, he is flying skywards.  
“I’ll take to the rooftops and see if I can spot him from there,” Clint offers as he takes off running.  
“I’ll join him,” Natasha says, following Clint.  
“I think I should go back into the tower, in case he comes back, and I can look out for him on security camera’s.” Bruce says, turning around.  
“I’ll go to S.H.I.E.L.D. and offer whatever support I can from there,” Phil says, and as if summoned by some kind of spell, a black SUV pulls up in front of them and Phil climbs in.  
That leaves Bucky and Steve to trawl the streets together. Logically, they both know that the kid won’t be in the vicinity any more, but they have no idea where to even start looking.  
“He’s too smart to go back to the apartment, and he won’t try and get into the prison, because he’s going to get caught there. Which begs the question, where would you go if you were a twelve-year-old boy who has been taken away from one of his lives and thrust into another?”  
Neither of them have a satisfactory answer to that, so they simply walk through the streets, checking in alley-ways and cafe’s. No-one else seems to have any leads yet, and Steve begins to wonder if something more sinister is happening. Tony bears a striking resemblance to his older self, and it wouldn’t take a genius to notice the similarities. Maybe their first assumption wouldn’t be that he was the Tony Stark, but they might think that he is a child of Tony’s (no-one is wholly convinced that there isn’t one of them out there somewhere). He could be in graver danger that he realises.

  
~~~

  
Ant sits on a bench far removed from the hustle and bustle of the joggers and the parents with their kids. Ant stares at the screen of the laptop he had dragged along with him, watching as lines of code are slowly produced from his fingertips, and he is edging closer and closer towards breaking into the S.H.I.E.L.D prison block.  
It will take a lot more than just unlocking the cell to get the man out, though. He will have to contact Rick somehow, and also offer a distraction to keep the guards out of his way. He needs to light the way out for Rick and lead him to a safe place where they can be reunited.  
The moment he is in, breaking past the last firewall, he takes control of the security camera’s and when he finds the one Rick is closest to, he begins to move it around wildly until Rick notices. The moment his eyes meet the camera, Ant begins to turn it off and on in a rhythm, sending a message through the little red light that he hopes the camera will have.  
He watches as Rick mouths ‘Morse code’ to himself, and then as realisation dawns on his face, when he understands that it’s speaking to him.  
‘Rick, Ant here. Going to break you out. Be ready, follow the flashing lights.’  
Ant waits for Rick to nod, but the man looks horrified. He shakes his head and looks disturbed. Ant repeats the message, sure that Rick has misunderstood. He puts extra emphasis on who it is, and Rick smiles sadly and talks aloud.  
“Ant, my boy, you don’t want to set me free. Leave me here. Trust me, kid. I deserve it. I shouldn’t have done to you what I did, and I deserve to suffer the repercussions. I’m sorry, for everything. You never deserved that. You deserve them.”  
And then Rick turns his back to the camera, and Ant stares at him, tears of betrayal pricking at his eyes. How can he do that? Why doesn’t he want Ant anymore? And what does he mean by saying that Ant deserves those guys? Is he being punished?  
He doesn’t know, but he decides that he needs to talk to Rick in person. He closes the laptop, throws it back in his bag and begins to storm through the park, heading towards the S.H.I.E.L.D base. How dare Rick try and abandon him, after everything they’ve been through together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited!


	10. Plot twist, indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ant isn’t sure which way is up, but he’s sure it’s not the way the avengers are pointing.

“He’s going to the S.H.I.E.L.D sanctioned prison,” Clint alerts them all through comms. “Nat and I are following him. I think he’s been crying.”  
Steve and Bucky turn to look at each other and then break out into a run.  
“Surely he knows we will find him?” Thor says, confusion rippling through his question.  
“Emotions trump logic sometimes,” Bruce tells them, wisely.  
“I think I know why he’s risking exposure,” Phil says. “I’ve got footage of Rick talking to seemingly himself, but I looked into the camera activity and would you believe that the boy hacked in and used it to talk to Rick in morse code?”  
“I don’t understand, Agent. Why would he go there in person if he was able to release Rick from afar?” Steve questions.  
“Well, here comes the plot twist. Rick told him not to.”  
Shocked silence rings through their earpieces, but it is Clint who breaks through it, with the skepticism they were all feeling.  
“Like, he told the boy to go away? I imagine in a cruel, heartless way?”  
“No. He apologized and told the boy he deserved better. Listen to this.”  
No one stops moving as Ricks voice plays through their comms.  
“Well, colour me shook,” Clint gasps. “Plot twist indeed.”

  
~~~

  
Ant has wiped away the last of the tears by the time he climbs into another cab and asks the driver to drop him at a subway stop close to the base. At the same time he notices Clint and Natasha following the cab from the roof tops, and that he can even see them suggests that they want him to.  
Ant sighs, knowing that there is no way he was going to be seeing Rick, so he chooses to do the second stupidest thing he can. He changes his destination to his old apartment.

  
~~~

  
“This kid is doing everything I’d expect someone to do, which is to say he’s doing the opposite of what I’d expect him to do.” Clint sounds disconcerted. “His cab just turned around and he’s heading towards the apartment. He knows we’re following. Approach with caution. Tony is probably capable of some serious Home Alone crap, and I’m not feeling that game right now.”  
“Gotcha, Hawk-eye,” Bucky replies.  
The avengers change course and eventually meet up in the front of the building.  
“He went in four minutes ago,” Natasha tells them. “Phil, how do you suggest we handle this situation?”  
“Knock, enter regardless of whether he grants you access, and then sit with him.” Phil joins in over comms. “Bruce, what do you say about exposing him to certain aspects of his past? I believe he’s aware of Iron Mans existence, but not yet of his triumphs. Maybe tell him stories, show him videos, that kind of thing.”  
Bruce agrees and they enter the building and begin climbing the stairs.  
“Hey Tony? Ant? It’s Clint and the gang,” Clint calls, rapping his knuckles on the door. “Can we come in?”  
They don’t hear any voices, but they do hear a crash of metal and the sound of breaking glass. They burst through the door to find Ant on a rampage in one of the rooms, which looks like a tiny, over filled and dirty workshop. Around the boy there are broken shards of glass and oily pieces of metal. Wires are being ripped out of something that looks an awful lot like a bomb, and that’s what sets Bucky in motion.  
He grabs the boy, pinning his arms to his sides and carrying him from the room while he screams and struggles. Bucky remains calm, as if he’s completely unaffected by man-handling a child he’s never met. And if his reaction is unexpected, it’s nothing like what they get from Ant.  
There’s maybe thirty seconds of screaming, but the moment the boy opens his eyes and sees the metal arm wrapped around him, he calms down instantly. Like, snap, one second he’s raging and dangerous, and the next he’s calm as ever and looking at the arm with polite interest.  
“Is that a metal arm? That’s so cool.”  
This is what causes Bucky’s calm facade to concave, and he looks positively panicked.  
“You’re such a nerd,” Clint comments, throwing himself on the sofa and patting the seat next to him.  
Bucky hesitantly lets the boy free, and they’re relieved when Ant simply sits down next to Clint, his eyes fixed on the arm.  
“You OK, Kid?” Bucky asks.  
Ant looks up from the arm for a second and then does a comic double take.  
“Holy crap. You’re James! James Buchanan Barnes!! The Sergeant! Bucky! Oh My God! You’re captain...” He seems to catch himself mid fan-boy moment and blushes deeply. “My dad talked about you sometimes. Or... I don’t know. Did he?”  
Ant is clearly struggling with the memories, and Bucky looks at Steve for some kind of guidance. Steve pulls a face and shrugs, since he’s no more prepared to deal with this than the rest of them.  
“Ok, so Bruce, you remember Bruce right? Well, he said it was OK for you to be shown some things about your... I don’t know what to call it. Your other life? Your previous incarnations? The man before the boy?” Clint shrugs away the indecision and continues, which is for the best because Natasha looks like she’s getting annoyed. “So, I figured it would be nice for you to hear some stories about the Clint and Tony team, et al.”

  
~~~

  
Ant is feeling a lot of things, but none of them are a desire to listen to them regale stories about who he used to be. Every time he lets himself remember even the smallest thing, his mind does this weird backflip, like it’s trying to recalibrate, and it hurts in a way that the pills won’t help.  
However, looking around at the team of weirdos that he knows he once called friends, he feels an obligation to hear them out. If Rick doesn’t want him back, maybe these guys will.  
So, when they start telling him about their missions together, Ant allows himself to latch on, and doesn’t complain when they use ‘you’ instead of ‘Tony’ even though it makes the story feel less real, since he doesn’t remember it all that well.  
And then they start to tell him about what he was like when he wasn’t on the battlefield. How they thought so highly of him for making all their weapons and letting them live in his tower. How his generosity saw no end, and that he was funny and a genius and would help anyone with anything.  
Something about what they are saying feels distinctly off, forced even, and though he can’t put his finger on it, he trusts his instincts to know that something is wrong. He has to force himself out of displaying his anxiety, but he knows he is being lied to. Something they have said is further from the truth than Pluto is from being a planet again.  
Ant play/ the part of ‘interested boy learning about his adult counterpart’ well, smiling and asking questions, but nothing too intrusive. He wants to start trying to poke at their story to find the hollow parts, but subtly. He doesn’t want them to know he doesn’t trust them if they were his last line of defense before being thrown back onto the streets. Besides, if he goes back to the tower, he can just ask Jarvis. That voice won’t lie to him, he knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited


	11. Heartbreak and traumas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ant talks to Jarvis and his fears are realized.

Ant is sat on the couch surrounded by the other Avengers, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He isn’t allowed to be on his own anymore, in case he tries to run again, even though he promises that he won’t. They seem to be averse to believing him, which yeah OK, he did run off, but he hadn’t told them he wasn’t going to then. It isn’t a broken broken promise if you don’t make it in the first place. Just a mild breach of trust.  
And besides, Ant thinks it’s a bit rich that they’d accuse him of being a liar when he knows something they told him wasn’t the entire truth, but he doesn’t know exactly what it is, yet. But that’s not something he can get to the bottom of while he’s being monitored by them all. He’s just gonna have to wait.  
“Ok, so it’s supposed to be my turn to pick the movie, but since I’m nice, I’ll let you chose, Tony,” Clint offers, smiling widely.  
“How magnanimous. And please, call me Ant. I don’t know Tony,” Ant doesn’t care to gage their reaction to his demand. “I don’t know any good movies. I watched LOTR’s with Rick a lot though!”  
“So, no LOTR’s then,” Bucky assumes.  
“No! I like it! I liked watching it with him! We’d do a night a week where he promised not to go on a job and he’d order pizza and we’d eat popcorn.”  
Everyone shifts uneasily, but Ant doesn’t care. It’s not his fault that they don’t understand why he likes Rick so much. He may have hurt Ant, but he was emotionally available, and never made Ant feel like he was invisible. He was quick to forgive, even to apologize sometimes. Ant had thought they were close, until today. He’s always seen Rick as being some kind of father figure.  
“Can we please watch the first movie?”  
No one argues, but they definitely aren’t enthusiastic about reliving Rick and Ant’s nights in. Ant cant find the energy to be bothered about how they feel about it. He misses those nights, and he’s becoming more and more aware that he didn’t have the same kind of relationship with his own father, his real one.  
He doesn’t remember much, but he remembers his parents being distant and his father being abusive. His real father never apologized, and never sought to spend time with his son, and his mother chose her social life over her mothering one.  
The weird thing for Ant is that when he remembers these things, there is a static in them. It’s as though he knows they happened, but in a way that feels like he watched it on TV or read it in a book. It doesn’t feel like his life at all, and he’s not sure he wants to experience the day when he’ll remember it all in first person. Some of those memories seem painful, and not just physically.  
As for his memories of being an adult, they’re built only on the emotional attachments he’d made in his formative years. Like, he knows that the people he’s met are important to him, but he can’t quite grasp onto those memories.  
Ant has a theory about this, and he believes that the reason behind this is his age. If he truly was Forty-five, then it’s not an age he’s relived yet. Maybe more and more memories will start to resurface as he gets older.  
Oddly, he hopes that that doesn’t happen, either. There isn’t much about this Tony Stark that he finds particularly desirable. Yeah, he was rich and had lots of pretty girls liking him, but everything else seemed a little too dark. His parents had died, he’d struggled with an alcohol addiction and until a few years ago, his circle of friendship didn’t stretch beyond two people. That doesn’t sound like the life Ant wants. He doesn’t want to become an alcoholic, or a recluse. He sounds like he spent more time in his workshop than he did with his his friends, and that he would work day and night making things for his business, while having no time to himself just seemed unfair. He’s not sure if that’s the kind of stress he wants to willingly load onto himself, and he doesn’t think that anyone even cared enough to try and help old Tony cope, so why would they help Ant?  
“Has anyone else think that Clint is like a less cool version of Legolas?”  
Bucky snorts at Ant’s comment, and Natasha smiles. Thor is too enthralled with the movie to offer a response and Bruce’s face is hidden behind a book.  
“I resent that comment, kid,” Clint murmurs, pouting.

  
~~~

  
It’s three AM, and Ant has been pretending to sleep for ages. The team seem to think he should go to bed at 10pm, like he’s some kind of toddler, and no amount of arguing seems to dissuade them, which is a theory Ant tested for almost half an hour: Ant is furious, because he wanted to stay up later than the rest of the avengers so he could talk to Jarvis alone. Luckily, there is a coffee machine in the bedside table, which he’d stashed there the day before.  
He is thankful that it’s quiet, and he manages to keep himself caffeinated until the rest of the team go to their respective floors, apart from Clint, who has decided to stay on the same floor as Tony, because he has taken it upon himself to keep an eye on him and make sure he’s ok. Ant doesn’t mind. He’s the lesser of all the other evils. The man is pretty deaf and would take his hearing aides out at night. He won’t hear a thing.  
“Jarvis?” Ant whispers, when he hears Clint close his bedroom door.   
“Yes sir?” Jarvis replies, equally as quiet.  
“Do the other guys like me?”  
“I believe so.”  
“No, I mean... did they like old me?”  
Jarvis is silent for a moment, and it speaks volumes.  
“I am of the opinion that you did not think so, sir.”  
Ant sighs heavily. He’d suspected as much.  
“What was I doing wrong?”  
“Sir, you have done nothing wrong. You only come across as arrogant to those who don’t know you well enough.”  
“I’m arrogant?”  
“No,” Jarvis insists. “I promise you sir, the problem is with everyone else. And your team came around.”  
“When I flew into space and sacrificed myself?”  
Again, Jarvis doesn’t respond and Ant shifts in bed to find a more comfortable position. He isn’t enough to make Rick want to keep him around, and his team didn’t even like him until he was gone. Why is he like this? Why can’t he do things properly, even on what is supposed to be his second chance.  
“Can you play some music, Jarvis? Please?”  
“Of course, sir.”  
Ant doesn’t know what it is, but suddenly the room is filled with soft italian music, and it reminds him of when his mother used to sing to him when he was really young, before she got bored of him and ignored him. He can’t stop the tears or the sobs as they tear apart at his body.  
“Sir?”  
“Don’t stop playing it, Jarvis. It reminds me... of when someone loved me,” Ant chokes out.  
Jarvis remains silent and Ant slowly drifts into an exhausted sleep.

  
~~~

  
Clint can’t sleep. He’s laying on a bed in the room next to his teammate who is now a twelve-year-old that had relived the abuse his father inflicted upon him, only with emotional support thrown in as a prize for being loyal to the lifestyle.  
Clint has never spoken to Tony about his childhood, or about much at all for that matter, and all of Stark’s files had been deleted from the system the moment Tony had stepped foot on the helicarrier.  
Despite this, Clint knows that Tony has had a rough childhood. Clint see’s the signs that he’d recognized in himself. However, Clint had someone to talk to about it. He had Natasha and before that, he had a close friend in the circus who he could talk to openly. He has been allowed to share the weight of his trauma in a way that Stark has never been able to.  
Sure, he could have talked to Rhodey about it, but Clint doesn’t think that has ever happened. Tony is too closed off, to ashamed of perceived weakness. Rhodey has probably guessed a lot of it, but Tony had been brought up to believe that pain is a weakness best endured alone. ‘Stark men are made of iron’ is just one example of how Tony was trained to suffer by himself.  
Clint looks at the clock and it’s a few minutes to three am. He wants to talk to Tony while he’s is too tired to refuse. It sounded like dirty games, but Clint is certain it will be the only time he can get the boy to believe him.  
He climbs out of bed, puts his hearing aides back in and then creeps out of the room. He isn’t even out of the door before he hears Tony talking, and he knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help himself listening in.   
Every word breaks his heart, but nothing so much as when he hears Tony’s tortured sobs fill the floor when an Italian lullaby begins to play.  
Clint leans against the wall and slides down, and he waits until Tony has fallen asleep before going back to his own room, feeling like the worst person in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a plot today, so there’s actually an end game now! Yay.


	12. Take a chill pill man. I’m driving.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The avengers assemble and Ant is left with some dude in a car that doesn’t even have the sense to stay concious when some idiots with guns start to chase them.

Ant wakes up late the next day with a headache. He imagines that its got something do with falling asleep crying, and he has no intention of sharing that information with the rest of the team, so he keeps it to himself.  
He heaves himself out of bed and looks around the room, not sure what he wants to do. He doesn't want to be cooped up inside all day, but he doesn’t really want to face everyone else, either. Not after what he learnt about them.  
“Jarvis, can I watch TV?”  
“Yes, sir. What do you want to watch?”  
“I don’t know. Cartoons?”  
Jarvis turns the TV on and Ant relaxes into the bed, watching as four turtles fight against a group of goons. He finds himself laughing a little louder than he intended to, and he’s not surprised when Clint comes into his room, takes one look at the TV and then pushes Ant to the side.  
“I love the ninja turtles,” he announces. “Scooch over. I want to watch it too.”  
Ant stares at him, not sure if he’s serious.  
“It bothers me that none of them use a bow. It’s cooler than a bow staff, at least. Like come on, Donetello! Get a clue.” Clint smiles down at Ant expectantly. “Come on, kid.”  
Not wanting to be rude, Ant shifts towards the wall, leaving enough room on the bed to sit down. Clint doesn’t try and talk again for a while, but he does get up again to bring them both breakfast. Ant takes small bites out of his English muffin, but it hurts to swallow, and he doesn’t really think eating is more important than keeping the pain away.  
“Do you need painkillers?” Clint asks, ever the observer.  
“No.”  
“Really? Cause you look like you’re going to scream every time you take a bite.”  
“Whatever.”  
“What a beautifully worded response. It’s a wonder you didn’t become a poet.”  
“Shut up,” Ant laughs. “I just don’t want painkillers. And I’m not hungry.”  
Ant’s stomach choses that moment to growl, and Ant looks down at it with disappointment, like it has personally outed him.  
“How convincing.”  
Ant shrugs, and clamps his mouth closed over another wave of pain. Why can’t he ignore it this morning? It was aching him the entire day before, but he was able to put the pain in the back of his mind, even when he was crawling through the vents. Maybe the pain killers worked for a little longer than he had anticipated. He couldn’t quite tell, but he remembers how they messed with his head at the beginning, and if there’s anything he hates more than showing weakness, it’s not having a clear mind.  
“Come on. What about just one? Maybe it’ll take the edge off?”  
Ant nods, feeling defeated. He can’t imagine that Clint would let the conversation drop easily, so it’s better to take half a win rather than losing completely.  
Clint leaves again and comes back rattling the little orange tube of pills. He shakes one out onto his hand, and Ant washes it down with his Orange juice. It doesn’t take long for the pain to lessen, both in his head and his ribs, and only minimal fuzziness invades his brain.  
Clint remains silent for another few episodes, but that’s when an alarm goes off, blaring through the whole building, and it makes Ant jump a mile in the air.  
“Oh, crap. Not now, not now.” Clint bemoans, running from the bed and out of the room.  
After a moments consideration, Ant follows, because he wants to see what’s up. As he enters the lounge, he can see the rest of the team rushing to meet Clint, each dressed in their respective outfits and in Ant’s opinion, looking ridiculous.  
“That’s what you wear when you go on a mission?” Ant laughs. “Like, Black widow and Hawkeye look slick as hell, but the rest of you... who designed that stuff?”  
“You did,” Steve says, raising an eyebrow.  
“Well, old me had no sense of style, obviously.”  
“We can’t all leave,” Natasha says, looking at Ant. “Someone has to stay behind.”  
“I don’t need a baby sitter!” Any complains, petulantly.  
Unsurprisingly, he’s completely ignored.  
“I need you all out there,” Phil says, his voice coming from the same speakers that Jarvis uses. “I’ll send a car, put Tony in it. I can keep an eye on him from here.”  
Clint nods, and Ant wonders whether Phil can see them and hear them, but he doesn’t get time to test it out, because the next thing he knows he’s being dragged into the elevator with unnecessary vigor.  
“Hey, what the hell, dude. I can walk without you pulling me!” Ant shouts, ripping his arm from Clint’s grasp.  
“Sorry, but we’re in a hurry and I get a little caught up,” Clint apologizes.  
Ant doesn’t say anything in response, but he doesn’t argue either. When they get outside, there’s a black SUV ready and Ant climbs in the back after a slight push from Clint, who runs back into the building the moment the car starts to pull away.  
Ant watches the sky as the Quinjet takes off and flies out of sight. He then settles into the car seat and looks out of the window, watching people walk, living their lives, while Ant is having a serious identity crisis.  
They’re pulling out of a traffic jam when another car slams into the side with such force that Ant is flung into the door. His shoulder aches, but he has no time to do anything about it. His brian goes into overdrive and he leans into the front seat to check on the driver who has fallen unconscious but is thankfully still alive.  
Ant can hear loud voices outside of the car, and bullets start flying, but the windows must be bullet proof because they don’t even crack the glass. Ant heaves the driver into the passenger seat and jumps behind the wheel.  
“Ant? What was that?”  
“Oh, hey Phil. Little accident.” Ant replies breathlessly, as he sets the car into reverse and slams the pedal.  
“Little accident? What happened?”  
Ant is looking over his shoulder and has one arm around the headrest of the passenger seat as he weaves around the cars behind him and takes a screeching turn into a side street. He then smacks the car into drive and peels out and back onto the road. The men with the guns hadn’t quite had time to get back into the cars, but suddenly Ants car is being followed by almost twenty different cars, though they’re all exactly the same. Definitely organized, a well. This is not good.  
“Some idiots with guns hit the car. Your buddy is knocked out, but we’re getting away.”  
“Who’s driving the car?” Phil asks, panicking. “Ant, who’s driving the car?!”  
“Hey, take a chill pill man, I am, and I’m damn good at it. Think along the lines of ‘fast and furious’ with a little dash of... shit!”  
“WHAT IS HAPPENING?”  
Ant doesn’t have time to reply because his focus is on the glass that has just sprayed him from the back window. He jerks the car left and then right, trying to lose those following him, but the roads are too wide and the turns too far apart for it to be an effective method.  
He changes tactics, and begins to slap the driver with one hand while trying to keep the car under control with the other.  
“Hey, buddy, time to wake up!” Ant screams.  
The man moans but his eyes snap open and he grabs a gun from the glove box.  
“That’s a real nice toy you’ve got there, man, but it’s no use to us right now. We need to jump!”  
The man looks like he wants to argue, but Ant takes another hard turn and the car flips and spins. The car scrapes along the floor, sending sparks flying around them, and then slams against the wall of a cafe, and it sends people running and screaming.  
The driver kicks out the sun screen and both he and Ant climb through the hole and the agent leads Ant into a side street and then through a door that leads into the back of a bakery.  
Ant struggles to keep up, because this dude has legs that last forever and his strides are like one and half of Ants. They run out of the other side of the bakery and into another street, and they keep running and running until they enter another alley way. They’re running up it, ready to enter a main street, when three cars swerve to a stop ahead of them and half a dozen men climb out, pointing guns at them all. The driver makes to turn around, but the other end of the alley way is in the same state.  
“Don’t tell them anything, kid,” the driver says, before he’s shot through the chest and crumples to the ground lifelessly.  
Ant screams, looking down at the body, but it’s not long before a black bag is pulled over his head and something sharp pokes his neck.  
“At least take me out on a date first,” Ant mumbles before his legs collapse beneath him and he blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s come to my attention that my tenses are all over the place. I’ll do a full on edit tonight and fix it!  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> *Edited out a mistake in names - Thanks for noticing!!


	13. Unlimited power and lifetime supply of twinkies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The avengers try to find Tony

“Avengers, we have a situation unfolding as we speak,” Phil calls through the comms, sounding far calmer than he did when he last spoke to Ant.  
“I think the fifty-foot lizard man is enough of a situation for us to deal with. Unless you’re talking about the tiny spider dude, in which case, I wouldn’t worry. I think he’s on our side,” Clint replies, chirpy despite the exhaustion in his voice.  
They’d only arrived five minutes ago, but it was taking all they had to minimize civilian casualties and property damage.  
“Tony has been taken.”  
Clint freezes, and on the ground he can see Bucky and Steve stutter in their movements. Aside from the self-proclaimed ‘Spider-man’, Bruce is the only one who isn’t affected, but that’s because the hulk doesn’t wear comms, and really there’s a question of whether he would understand anyway.  
“Our young friend has been taken? What do you mean?” Thor asks, as he aims his hammer at the beasts head. It hits him squarely on the crown of its skull and the hammer returns to Thors outstretched hand.  
The monster takes a step backwards before swaying towards a building. The hulk grabs its tail and pulls it backwards so that it falls onto an empty patch of road, making the ground shiver.  
“The transport was ambushed and he tried to escape on foot, but they found him,” Phil explains gravely.  
“What about the agent with him?”  
“Dead.”  
Their blood runs collectively cold and even the hulk seems to recognize that the fight is over and he is needed anymore. Bucky is talking to him, and quicker than normal, he returns to Bruce.  
“What’s going on?” He asks, as Thor offers him some support.  
“Friend Tony has been taken,” Thor responds, sounding nothing like the obnoxiously happy god that he normally is.

  
~~~

  
Ant wakes up feeling like he’s been hit by a truck and then reversed back over. Ten times. He tries to groan, as if it will offer some kind of relief but he finds it’s gargled.  
His brain catches up with the situation fairly quickly when he realizes that he’s been gagged and tied to a chair. Even with his eyes open, he can’t see anything and he’s not sure if that’s because the room is dark or because there’s something over his head. He rules out becoming blind because he can see the darkness, and he doesn’t think that’s something blind people can do.   
He tries to clear his head, and slowly memories from the night before filter in.   
The car, the crash, the body! Oh my!  
He remembers his driver being shot and then someone shoving a bag over his head and a needle in his neck.  
Ant bristles at the idea of being kidnapped, and the realization that now he’s gone again the avengers might like him. Maybe being gone will be good for him and his relationship with the team. It depresses him to even think about it, but it’s not like he’s being given much of a choice.  
He tries to pull on the restraints, but they’re a little too tight to get any give and they don’t feel like handcuffs, but rather a lot of rope. Breaking his thumb won’t offer him much leeway, which means he has no option but to sit there doing nothing to aid his escape. A sitting duck. How wonderful. He can only plan for when the rope comes off, in which case he’ll kick everyone he can in between the legs and run as fast and as far as he possibly can. He’s not as much as a ‘plan man’ as he is a ‘thinking on the spot’ man. He works better when all of his options are laid out clearly in front of him. That’s when he’s the strongest.

  
~~~

  
Hours have passed since they lost Ant and their search has been fruitless so far. Bruce had narrowly avoided turning back into the hulk and is currently searching through the camera footage of the scene in the alleyway where the kidnapping happened. The people were determined, that much can be said. And smart, which is a terrible combination for bad guys.  
Not only did they all drive the same car, but they also stuck together and their traffic weaving skills were impeccable, meaning that they don’t know which was which when they eventually split up and went in different directions, each one leading into a security dead zone.  
None of the cars are traceable and there are not enough people to search the endless possibilities.  
Now the rest of the team are trying to understand how anyone could have come to learn about Ant’s existence and his real identity.   
“Who knew about him?” Steve asks, as they stand in a meeting room on the helicarrier.  
“Only us, Rick and a handful of staff.”  
“Interview those people,” Steve demands, looking to Clint and Natasha. “I want to know how the information was leaked.”  
They both nod and disappear.  
“Thor, I need you to work with Bruce and check out the places he thinks are most likely to be holding Tony. Call for back up if you even think you may have found him.”  
Thor doesn’t even pause to nod, he simply leaves and they hear the tell-tale thunder as he launches himself into the sky.  
“Bucky and Phil, we’ll be working every possible lead that Natasha and Clint’s interrogation brings forward.”  
No time is wasted in following the team leaders orders, and they just collectively pray that they find their friend alive.

  
~~~

  
“Little man has been hanging around with the avengers, I hear?”  
Ant’s breath catches in his throat as he blindly looks around for the source of the voice.  
“It’s cute, really. What was it for? Adopt a runt week? It’s strange, because they’re usually so vocal about their charity work, which leads me to believe that you’re not just a charity case, but some more. Are you an asset to them? What say you, child?”  
The voice sounds old and scratchy, like he’s a long-time smoker and has made a hobby out of eating sandpaper. He also sounds bored, which Ant finds annoying, since kidnapping is hardly an excitement-free activity.   
“What do you want?!” Ant shouts and he hopes that the head gear won’t take the vicious edge off of his words, though to be honest, with the gag in, there’s no way to tell if the man truly heard what was being shouted, anyway.  
“Well, little boy, there are a lot of things I want. Unlimited power and a lifetime of supply of twinkies should satisfy me to some extent.”  
The man pulls the hood from Ants face and rips the rag from him mouth. It hurts, but Ant doesn’t complain. Instead, his eyes zero in on the old man in front of him, with sunken eyes and yellowing skin.  
“Ok, you pedantic asswipe. What do you want from me?”  
“Ah, I see. Well, I would like you to give me several things. One, the identity of the avengers. Two, I want you to be a test subject.”  
“What?”  
Light stings at Ant’s eyes as they drift away from the mans face and focus on the room around him. He gulps and his eyes widen.  
“This isn’t good,” he whispers to himself.  
“You’ve never been more correct in your life.”  
Ant screams as the hand grips his hair and pushes him forward, chair and all, into a pool of water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing about americans because I can talk about twinkies like i know what they are!  
> Sorry about the short chapter, but the next one will be long AF


	14. Worrying isn’t going to help find him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The avengers are panicking and Tony is suffering

“Tell me the identities of the avengers!” The man screams, as he pulls Ant out of the water.  
Ant takes it deep, gulping breaths but when the man realizes that he’s not going to answer, he plunges him back into the icy depths.  
Ant’s entire body is screaming in pain, begging for air and pleading for them to stop, all the while not being able to make a noise and mentally preparing for the moment that he can’t stave off the need to take a breath any longer. He’s not ready to die, but he’s accepted that it is the most likely end of this torture, because he will not betray the avengers.  
Just as his body begins to relent, just as it is about to get ready to take the next and final breath, he is pulled from the water and the question is posed again. He isn’t really even able to listen to them anymore, because the blood pumping in his ears and his exaggerated breathing drowns out the sound of everything else.  
“Who is Hawkeye? The Black Widow? The hulk? Give me their names!” The voice is manic and screeching, and Ant almost allows himself to think that maybe this man doesn’t enjoy inflicting torture any more than Ant enjoys experiencing it, but that thought is washed away as his face one again met smashed through the thrashing surface  
Ant endures this for three hours, three long and tiring hours of torture and he had to be resuscitated several times during, because sometimes their timing wasn’t quite right.  
By the end, his entire body hurts, and his throat burns so badly that he is coughing. His head feels like it is on the verge of exploding, but it eases up after he manages to take a few deep breaths.  
He spends the first thirty minutes out of the water shivering and crying and choking on water that isn’t there anymore. The man screams at him, threatens him, but Ant would rather die that betray the Avengers. They might have not liked him, but they are still good people who protect the world. He’d rather die than out them.  
After an hour of questions, none of which Ant answers, he is thrown into a padded cell, of the likes one would find in a psychiatric unit. Ant drags himself into the corner of the room and plants his back against the wall, letting his entire being sag.  
He feels so heavy and yet, so very empty. He is struggling to conjure up a feeling that isn’t just outright fear. He can’t even mold some of it into anger against his capturer, and he doesn’t know why. He should feel angry, or maybe even sad. But he doesn’t. Just fear as far as the eye can see.  
And that is why his ‘thinking on his feet’ plan isn’t working out as well as he had hoped. Because fear dominates, but anger? Well, anger drives.

  
~~~

  
Still no sign of Tony and Steve feels sick with desperation and guilt. He shouldn’t have allowed this to happen, again. How does one human being go missing so often?  
Bucky has been staring at Steve as he’s been pacing the kitchen floor for the last twenty minutes. Steve has been muttering to himself how it’s all his fault, and Bucky has been sitting on the ‘moping isn’t going to help find him’ comment for more than half of it.  
“They’re not breaking, guys,” Clit says as he and Natasha enter the tension filled room. “The only reason they wouldn’t have admitted to whom they revealed Tony’s secret to is because they didn’t. I’m fair confident in this”  
“I think we’ve wasted enough time going down that particular avenue,” Natasha announces, never one to mix words. “We need to start looking at other reasons that the boy may have been taken.”  
“‘The Boy’ being Tony? Why would anyone take him if they didn’t know his real identity?” Steve argues.  
“Because he was seen hanging around with the avengers,” Bucky says, his voice low.  
They all turn to face him and he shows them the phone screen. He isn’t quite as good at it as the others are, but he saw the benefits where Steve did not and he knows that the internet holds a wealth of knowledge.  
“Anyone could have recognized him,” Steve ventures, before Natasha puts a hand on his chest to make him stop.  
“Stop obsessing over someone knowing that it was Tony and consider the potential that it wasn’t for that reason,” Natasha counsels. “I know you’re harboring a lot of  
guilt right now, but don’t let your self styled ‘Tony Is The Greatest’ mantra interfere with this. Old Tony, for now, is gone. We’ve got to focus on Ant, and that includes you.”  
Steve takes a quick step back, almost as if he was burnt, and he looks over the Bucky, as if asking for support. Bucky pulls a sympathetic face and shakes his head. He agrees with Natasha. Steve is letting himself get caught up in his own thoughts, and it’s not conducive to their plight.  
Steve starts to mouth a word and then thinks better of it, as most people tend to do when face to face with Black Widow. Instead, he sits down and in a fit of desperation, looks to Nat for advice.  
“We’ve not had him back for more than a week, and a group this size and this organized comes together and kidnaps a boy from under the watch of a S.H.I.E.L.D agent? I’m not convinced that this was a spur of the moment thing,” Nat begins, walking to the fridge to grab a bottle of gatorade.  
“So, you think it was the agent?” Clint asks, face pinched in disagreement.  
“Uh, no. Weren’t you listening Barton? No, I think this is a highly organized crime syndicate that has been slowly planning a way to better us.”  
“Who do we know like that?” Bucky asks, intrigued with her line of thinking.  
“Who do you think, dipshit? HYDRA.”

  
~~~

  
Ant is staring at the door, his heart steadily thrumming in his chest with the power of an earthquake simulator, waiting for the torture to start again.  
His wait is getting longer and longer until he is convinced that they’d forgotten about him, as had, apparently, the avengers.  
Last time they got a call out, they were ready to go in less than five minutes. Maybe that is taking precedence over this, he argues, and they’re still wrapping things up. Even though it was almost 24 hours since the fact and he is already struggling to convince himself that they even care.  
“Let’s think positive, shall we?” Ant says to himself. “Happy thoughts and all that jazz.”  
He forces his eyes shut and tries to think back to all the good times he’s had in his short three years of memory. The first week at Ricks had been great. The man gave him a bed, a shower, food, clothes, a TV... everything. He’d soothe the boy when he was reliving the cruelty he’s been subjected to on the streets. He’d patched up his cuts and iced his bruises when he’d first brought him through the door. He really took care of Ant, and the only thing that changed is that he was the one inflicting that damage onto Ant in the end. It didn’t change everything else. Rich still loved him. Or had, at least. Ant can’t be convinced that Rick never cared, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t care now.  
Ant’s pulled from his stumble down memory lane by the sound of the door unlocking and heavy footsteps heading towards him.  
Once again, his hair is grabbed in a vice-like grip and he is hauled off the ground and out of the room.  
“Since you don’t seem to be responding much to our other methods of torture, we’ve got something else up our sleeves which might just be all we need to get that information out of you,” the man snarls wickedly. “You excited to be a human experiment?”  
“I’m pretty sure there’s one too many variables going on with me for you to replicate if this works,” Ant smiles. He doesn’t let his mask drop, even when a hand bites across his face with a sharp slap.  
“A little dirtier than what I’m used to, but I’m always willing to try new things,” Ant jokes, though he’s really struggling to find anything about this funny.

  
~~~

 

“This doesn’t narrow our field by much,” Bucky says, standing up and staring down at a map of the state. “Is there anyway we can access satellite feeds over these areas?”  
“We have immediate access to a Thorellite,” Clint suggests, ducking just in time to miss an annoyed smack from a disgruntled Natasha.  
“I’m just saying, he’s on hand to check whichever one of these potential hideouts is our biggest guess.”  
“We cannot send him in on a whim, when his life could be in danger,” Natasha rebuttals, and then she has Phil call Thor back to the tower.  
“We’re nearing on thirty-six hours, guys,” Bucky reminds them. “We’re running out of time to talk.”  
“Guys, Tony has gotten in touch with me,” Bruce says, his voice crackling over the comms.  
“You’ve found Ant?” Steve shouts, his voice coiled, like he’s too scared to let himself feel relief.  
“No, Tony found himself alerted me to his whereabouts. I have a lock on his signal. We should leave now.”  
It takes not a minute for them to scramble together in the quinjet. The air around them crackles with nervous tension as they go to save their twice fallen teammate.


	15. They needn’t have bothered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is back and he’s just as snarky and sharp as before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI - A little more swearing than I normally write.

Ant is lifted off of the floor and thrown onto a large, metal operating table. The force of which he’s thrown makes his back hurt, and it shocks him out of senses, meaning he doesn’t fight fast enough when they start to restrain him.  
“Hey, what-“  
“Shut it,” one of the men growls.  
“What are you doing?” Ant cries as he tries to pull against the soft hospital restraints, bucking against the bed. “Tell me!”  
The man slaps Ant again, harder this time and Ant stills. His wide, fear filled eyes scan the room and take in everything.  
These people have obviously ransacked a hospital at some point. Heart monitors, blood transfusion machines, anesthetic administrators and boxes upon boxes of needles, gauze’s, and sterile wipes. That they are so prepared for a surgery makes his head swim with possibilities. What are they going to do to him? And he prays that they plan to put him under if they intend to cut him open.  
“Like we said, you’re taking part in an experiment, of which you’re the only participant,” The torturer smiles down at Ant, a sickeningly frightful smile, and Ants stomach twists painfully. “It’s something we’ve been working on for a long time, and we needed someone extra special to do this on. And there must be something interesting about you.”  
Ant squints up at them as they turn the surgery light on. Behind him a whirring sound starts up, and he tries to turn around to see it, but he can’t turn around. To his left the heart machine begins beeping an exaggerated sound that increases in frequency as his fear rises. Something beneath the bed begins to clang, and suddenly Ant doesn’t feel scared anymore.  
“Are you seriously trying to over stimulate my senses in order to get a reaction from me? Is that the experiment?” Ant laughs. “Nice try, but I’m a little too smart for that.”  
“We’d wagered as much,” the man sneers. “We just like to play with our food.”  
Twenty eight hours in and still no rescue party. Ant has lost hope that someone will find him, and now it’s down to him to save himself, but he might not be able to do it until after they’ve inflicted life altering damages onto him.

~~~

  
The team are flying towards the building where the signal came from, each prepared for a battle.  
“Did the building just explode?” Clint asks, as though it isn’t a clear cut situation.  
The building has indeed just gone up in flames with a bang and is now emitting so much smoke that they cant see properly.  
“Tony?” Steve gasps, as a familiar red and gold suit hovers above the wreckage.

  
~~~

  
The creepy men dressed in doctors scrubs have been actively pissing Ant off for the last hour. He knows that they’re trying to get a rise out of him but he can’t understand why. And using such juvenile methods too, though he’s grateful that they’re not using their old tactics. They mentioned he is going to be in an experiment but didn’t describe what his part in it was going to be, and whether this is prep for that.  
“Jesus crust you guys are annoying,” Ant complains, as he refrains from screaming at their incessant poking with needles. “Just get on with it!”  
“You need to be feeling extreme emotion before we can inject anything into your system,” one man explains, not unkindly.  
“Well, I’m the master of calm so good luck.”  
“We’ll see about that, boy.”  
Ant knows that he was up shit creek without a paddle, but if he was an avenger once, so he should act like it. So far they’ve only been annoying him and it’s barely passable as pain, but there’s a lot of room for it to get worse.  
As if they’d read his mind, he hears the sloshing of water in the distance and a towel was placed over his face.  
“Shit,” he whispers, as the first wave of water falls on his face.  
He gargles a scream, choking on the water. His tears lost to the ocean on his face and his resolve drowned in fear.  
They pulled away the towel and he swallowed air like a fish guzzles water. He isn’t an avenger if he can’t even endure a little waterboarding. No wonder they’re not coming for him.  
The towel is replaced and the water comes again, and Ant lets the terror replace his thoughts. It’s better to be out of your own head when you’re being tortured. Maybe it won’t touch his psyche that way.   
The last thing he’s mentally conscious to notice is the sharp pain in the crook of his elbow.

  
~~~

  
Tony blinks. and then he blinks again.  
‘What the _shivering fuck_ ,’ he thinks, as he takes in his surroundings.  
It looks like a hospital, but low budget and built by Hannibal. There’s nothing sanitary about the place, and worse, he’s not alone. There are large men standing around the bed that he’s strapped to, looking at him excitedly.  
Tony wants to ask them what he’s doing there, but before he has the chance to open his mouth, someone pours water over his face. Tony’s thoughts fly back to Afghanistan and he can’t control his fear as much as he’d like to. He fights against the restraints on his wrists and ankles, but he’s not winning. He wants to scream, but he can’t.  
‘What am I doing here?!’ He couldn’t stop himself thinking.  
And then he remembers.  
“Fuck,” he screams, when the water has finally relented and he has air to waste.  
“Ah, you feeling slightly more coherent? That last one was to help keep you compliant.”  
Tony just stares at the man, trying to keep his facial expression neutral, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he actually looked petulant.  
“I’d tell you our whole plan, but i’ve seen enough movies to know that we’d be simply tempting fate. I will tell you this, though. You’ve been given a special drug that, if all goes to plan, will put your mind into overdrive and you will retain 99.99% of all your memories. Your hippocampus will be stimulated for the next three hours, and in that time, I want you to read the material we have provided and then use that to build us what we want. Failure to comply will only result in more torture, and I imagine you won’t be forgetting how that feels any time soon.”  
Tony raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the man, who looks so damn smug that all Tony wants to do is smash his face into the table.  
He considers his options here. On the one hand, three hours pretending to read is three hours he can use to plan a way out. On the other hand, if he can’t think of something quick enough they’ll give him a repeat performance and there’s only so much torture a man can suffer through without cracking.  
“Ok,” Tony replies, nodding, trying to appear docile and young, as if it would appeal to the mans moral side.  
He might as well flaunt the youth that he’s been given. It’s got to be good for something other than complete and utter humiliation.  
The man looks almost giddy with possibilities and Tony can’t wait to let him down.  
Tony Stark isn’t anybody’s mechanic.

  
~~~

  
Steve feels sick, and from the looks of his other teammates, they do too.  
From the way the suit is maneuvering, awkwardly and unsteadily, there is absolutely no way that Ant knows what he is doing, or at least can’t control a suit built for a full grown man.  
They can’t see the enemy’s for the smoke, but Ant is aiming his repulsers on the ground. They set the jet down on the edge of the smoke and the moment the doors open, they run towards the fire.

  
~~~

  
Tony skims the books, but they needn’t have bothered. He’s known how to build a bomb since he was seven, and he’s known the inside of a gun like the back of his hand for almost as long.  
These people clearly want nothing more than to use him to build weapons, but Tony plans to build something completely different. Afghanistan may haunt him until the day he dies, but he’ll never forget it.  
And this time, he’s already got the suit. He just needs to call it to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1,000 hits! Beyond happy.  
> It’s all kicking off in this FF. Hope you enjoy it!


	16. Let’s blow this popsicle stand, J

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes his break for freedom, and Bruce contemplates the team and how they shun Tony.

Tony recognizes that whatever they injected him with has pumped his brain into action. They must be onto something, no matter how much it has backfired. He has to get the recipe for that disaster later. Between him and Bruce, they can definitely perfect it, and it has the potential to help people with amnesia. Might as well put it to good use.  
Tony doesn’t know what’s weirder. That he feels like he’s forty or that he looks like he’s twelve. He doesn’t even know if there’s a way to get back to his normal body, or if that’s even something he wants. His older body was broken, and this body... well, it wasn’t broken quite as bad. For a start, there’s no arc reactor. His liver isn’t ruined by years of alcohol abuse. He’s got a clean slate and so much more knowledge this time around.  
Could he not embrace that? Should he?  
He puts that thought on hold for a minute, and focuses back on his work. He doesn’t have an infinite amount of time to do this, so he needs to hurry, and thought wormholes won’t increase his productivity.  
An hour later, and Tony is smiling with pride.  
Tony beams down at the tiny disk in his hand. After being left in a work shop filled with everything he could ever possibly need to build them an arsenal, he has finally managed to complete the only thing he intended to build properly. Why they left him alone is beyond him, but they obviously have more faith in their creation that they have any right to.  
Thirty-five hours have passed since he was taken, and Tony has accepted that the team probably aren’t looking for him. It doesn’t matter. If Tony Stark has proven anything, it’s that he can get himself out of even the most dire situations. He shouldn’t have expected the team to come anyway, since they were hardly even friends before he went into the portal. Tony looks back down at his hand and finally feels like he’s on the edge of winning something here.  
He’s busy marveling at the little chip in his hand, when the door of the workshop is opened and the main goon walks in.  
“Are you finished yet?”  
“Does it look like I’m finished?”  
Tony doesn’t regret talking back, even when the man grabs his hair and slams his face into the table.  
Blood begins to steadily drip from his nose, but he smiles through it.  
“How persuasive. I’ll give you points for brute force but I’m taking some away because you could definitely broaden your vocabulary a little bit.”  
“Shut up and keep working,” the man growls, and Tony bats away another attempt to hit him.  
“Sure, sure.” He muttered as the man left. “Someone get that man lessons on conversational technique.”  
Tony grabs a rag and uses it to stifle the blood flow. With his free hand, he pulls his wheeled office chair towards the computer.  
“Brucey-bear,” he types, smiling in a carefree way. “Come pick me up, bring the squad- and maybe a few of those little bottles of vodka. Make a party out of it.”  
He was stupidly hesitant about sending the message, because if they didn’t come and get him this time, Tony couldn’t make excuses for them any more. He’s just have to accept that he’s on his own.   
Tony leaves the table and tapes the chip to his arm. He doesn’t have the time or resources to imbed it in his arm like he would prefer, but as long as he can keep it stable until he needs it, he’ll be ok.  
Now that he has that ready, and he’s told the team about where he is, he’s got to make them a damn bomb.

  
~~~

  
The smoke hangs in the air like a constant reminder that danger is ahead. It makes it hard from them all to see, and it burns their throats, but they push through. The sound of fire crackling echoes through the thicket of trees.  
Clint begins to cough, but doesn’t slow down. Natasha’s eyes are watering hard, and even Steve is having problems, but Ant is in there somewhere, fighting off enemies on his own. No twelve year old should have to suffer through that much trauma.  
Bruce is the only one that knows that Tony has his mind back. He wants to share this with the team, but when he had gone to do exactly that, he remembered how the team had treated Tony before all of this happened. He remembers the way Steve spoke to Tony, not caring that his words more than anyone else’s would pack a sting that would leave a mark. Bruce doesn’t think his team would leave Tony alone, but he isn’t sure that they would be quite as committed to the rescue party as they should be if they learn that Tony had returned.   
He feels bad for even thinking it, but he is also sure that his observations of the team and Tony are accurate. He doesn’t understand how they can be so blindsided by Tony’s forced personality. Yes, he is brash and abrasive, but he is also the most generous and thoughtful person Bruce has ever known.  
They also have a startling amount in common, but that’s another thing he would never openly admit to the team, and he and Tony, while aware, never discuss the intricacies of their broken childhoods. They’ve both overcome the odds and appeared on the other side fairly well put together, even if some things can never be reversed or fixed, they’ve learnt to accept that they deserve better and can do better.  
Tony deserves the respect of his team, and Bruce aims to show them this. But now isn’t the time to attempt such a feat. And besides, there’s a possibility it could happen naturally.

  
~~~

 

Tony touches up the last of the detonation device, and the pressed the sole button on the chip attached to his arm.  
It’s been over an hour since he sent out the message to Bruce, and while hurt, he’s not overly surprised that they’ve not come to help. Especially if they know he’s back to himself.  
He’s warmed that they would make such an effort to help him while he was in a vulnerable state, but he should have known that wouldn’t become the norm once they knew old Tony was back. Or at least, his mental state. His body is a problem for another time.  
He guesses that he has another seven minutes before suit makes it to him, so he calls for the goons to return.  
“Finished?” The man asks, staring at a bomb that is quite clearly finished.  
“Yup,” Tony stands up and makes an elegant gesture towards it. “All ready and set for your personal business. Can I go now?”  
The man snorts derisively and shoves Tony brusquely to the side. Figures. He never thought they’d let him go, but it’s nice to know where he stands with them.  
“How do I activate it?” he demands as he packs the weapons into a duffle bag.  
“You see that button labeled ‘activate’? That should do it.”  
Tony is punched in the stomach, and a wave of pain washes over him, but he’s never been one to miss out on a good jibe when the opportunity to beautifully presents itself.  
The man then grabs Tony by the arm and throws him back into the cell.  
“It’s a shame we’re going to have to kill you, boy, but we’ve got what we needed and you’re no longer as useful as you were before. That drug has run its course, but the dregs of it should leave your system fully in about four hours. Though by that time, you’ll be dead.”  
The man leaves, locking the door behind him and Tony feels dread settle into his stomach.  
“Well, shit.”  
Tony stands back from the glass wall, because being sprayed with glass is not one of the activities he enjoys.  
Almost exactly to the second that he’d predicted it, pieces of the suit fly towards him, showering him in shards of glass, and latch onto his body. He knows it’ll bruise, and they don’t fit as snugly as he would have liked, owing to his new body, but it’ll do.  
Finally, the face plate smacks into him and the suit lights up.  
“Alright, J?”  
“Sir, it’s good to hear that you’re back.”  
“At least someone appreciates me!” He cries jubilantly as he powers the trustees and flies upwards, breaking through the ceiling with a deafening crash.  
“It’s time to blow this popsicle stand,” he says, as the bomb explodes and the building blows apart below him. “That was immensely satisfying.”  
“Indeed, sir,” Jarvis replies with the perfect amount of exasperated humor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around. Only four more chapters and I’ll be done.  
> I appreciate you reading, pressing the ‘Kudos’ button and commenting!


	17. Go on, give them a try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony escapes the compound, but one problem still persists.

Tony rises above the building, smoke billowing around him and fire crackling below.  
To the left of the building, he can see a convoy of cars driving away, but they’re within range of his blasts, and he shoots towards them, making one car explode and causing the other to crash into it.  
The third car expertly weaves around the carnage and the sun roof is thrown off and Tony can see one of his weapons protruding from the space.  
“Go on, give it a try,” he urges, smiling beneath the suit.  
He’d purposely made them defective. Of course he had. Did they really expect him to be so compliant? Sure, they looked fully functional, and only a skilled mechanic would recognize the fault, so there’s no way they could have predicted that they were faulty, but they shouldn’t have expected them to be fully functional to begin with. Power is a strong delusion to these people.  
He’s not sure how many times they tried before they gave up, realizing the problem. The guns were thrown back into the car and a man stands up through the hole and aims a small pistol at Tony.  
Several gun shots ring through the air, and of all of them, only one makes contact. Luckily, the suit is thick enough that it doesn’t penetrate the armor, but it does cause enough damage for it to be an annoyance.  
“Left leg has been compromised sir,” Jarvis informs him, but Tony doesn’t listen until the thruster shuts down, so that the only thing keeping him in the air is the one on his right leg and in his arms. He has to try and balance himself awkwardly, and he’s just happy that no one else is there to see him, because he probably looks ridiculous.  
As if his small stature wasn’t causing him enough problems, the suit is now dangerously off kilter, and using either of his repulsor beams will only further compromise him. He opts to use the small missiles on his shoulders instead, though he doesn’t think it’s quite as cool. He aims and releases two, both hitting their target and causing the third and final car to explode on contact.  
He uses his radar system to detect further activity to his left. He aims his repulsors there, but he can’t see anyone because of the smoke. He hadn’t seen any other cars and anyone of foot should have been taken down by the impact, so he’s on high alert already.   
He slowly lowers himself to the ground and makes a very shaky landing. He turns on his suits lights, and begins walking towards the other people, his arm ready to blast away the enemies, but the first person he sees is Clint, and he lowers his arm, grinning.  
They can’t see him, and he knows it, but he can’t help but feel a barrage of relief hit him. They did come after all, even if it is hours late and after all the interesting stuff has happened. He stumbles when he tries to approach them, but he suddenly feels the weight of the suit on him, and Steve lunges forward to catch him before he hits the ground.  
“Thanks cap. Always there to catch me when I fall,”  
“Uh, no problem Ant,” he stutters.  
Ant?  
“Call me Tony.” He says, his smile faltering as he looks over to Bruce, wondering why his science bro suddenly looks very uncomfortable.  
“Tony? You’re back!” Steve cries with hysterical happiness.  
Tony can’t breath. Did Captain America really just say his name with so much relief? With so much joy? If only his dad could see him now, he’d take back everything he ever said. Tony was good enough. He was on level with the american hero. He wasn’t a failure.  
“Almost,” Tony comments, lifting his face plate. “Still haven’t quite hit puberty.”  
“You’re close enough to your old self,” Clint tells him, smiling. “Oh, man. It’s so good to hear you without that anxiety ridden soundtrack.”  
Tony lowers his face plate so that they can’t see his discomfort at the comment. Clint sounded so... nostalgic. As though his previous mind fuck was something to miss, rather than something to hate. He doesn’t want to come to the conclusion that they liked him more then than they did before, but it’s hard to when all of the information he has defies this.  
“Uh, yeah. I’m back.”  
They stand in silence, the smoke thinning out and ultimately clearing as the fire dies down. They stare at each other, as if they don’t know where to go from there. It grows to almost awkward levels, so Tony decides to take matters into his own hands.  
“J, are the thrusters at full power?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“I’ll meet you back at the tower!” Tony calls as he pushes off of the ground and flies away. He deactivates the comms just as Steve begins to call him back.  
“Sir?”  
“Yeah, J?”  
“I think you should give them another chance.”  
Tony doesn’t reply, but he does allow himself to mull over those words. He trusts Jarvis with his life. He might be a computer program, but Tony has long since considered him to be so much more than that. Jarvis is a version of his old butler that he needs more than anyone else. He trusts his judgement more than his own, and so maybe he will give them a chance, but not today. He needs time to think.  
So, he flies back to the tower, and the suit is taken apart with a little more trouble than normal. He falls flat on his face, not used to the height that he has to step down from. He quickly brushes himself off and runs to the elevator, wanting to return to his workshop. He has three years of work to make up for, and really there’s no better time to start than now.  
The moment the door shuts behind him, he activates the ‘black-out’ protocol, and calls Pepper.  
“Ant?”  
Her voice is like a bucket of ice water. He shivers and sucks in a deep breath.  
“Nah, not any more.”  
“Tony?” She breathes in shock, and he waits for her to gather her thoughts.  
“Oh my god, Tony. It’s so good to hear from you! Like, you you. Not Ant you.”  
Of course Pepper would be happy to have his old self back. So would Rhodey, for that matter. He smiles in spite of himself. He should have known that his two best friends wouldn’t prefer another version of him.  
“Yeah, it’s good to be back.”  
Silence again, and Tony just wants her to come to him so they can hold each other. The only problem is that he’s still in a child body. If he can’t fix that, then they can’t be together. That’s a painful thought.  
“I’m coming over,” she tells him softly.  
“No. Don’t do that. I... I need time.” Tony feels horrendous for pushing her away after she’s spent so long thinking him dead, but he can’t cope with it all yet. Maybe they both need time. Pepper certainly needs to time to re-evaluate their relationship.  
“Of course,” she says, though her disappointment rings through the room.  
“Im not back to myself completely,” he explains. “I’ve got my old mind, but not my body.”  
“Oh,” brief silence. “I still want to see you.”  
“Maybe come tomorrow? And being Rhodey? Is he free?”  
“For you? He will be.”  
And with that, they hang up.  
Tony paces around his workshop before he realizes that he didn’t ask her what he needed to do in order to start catching up.  
“J, send Pep an email asking for a list of things I need to do.”  
“Yes sir.”  
Tony knows Pepper will be reluctant to let him get back to work, but she’ll also know that it’s important for him to get back to normal life as soon as possible. That’s why he’s not surprised when she sends a list two minutes later, that is ten pages long.  
Smiling ruefully, Tony cracks his fingers and begins to work.

  
~~~

  
“So, Tony has his mind back, but not his body?” Fury asks, standing at the head of the table.  
“Yes sir. He went back to the tower the moment the smoke cleared.” Steve sounds annoyed, of course he does. He wanted Tony to get checked out, because once he’d lifted the face plate, Steve got a good look at the boys... mans face. Bruised and swollen, with dark bags under his eyes and an unusually pale face. He looked broken and exhausted, but it was nothing like the look he tried to hide after he heard Clint’s almost wistful comment about what he was like before he was kidnapped.  
Steve won’t pretend to understand the inner workings of Tony’s mind, but it’s clear that he’s worried about how they will treat him now.  
Steve wants to know whether he’s going to kick them out of the tower now that he’s back. They hadn’t moved into his property with his permission, but rather under the orders of Fury. They had all argued with the decision, deeming it distasteful and disrespectful, but Fury was adamant.  
A month after Tony left, they all moved into the empty floors in the tower and settled in, though none of them felt comfortable calling it home. It couldn’t be a home until the man who owned it returned, and they had long since come to the conclusion that it wasn’t going to happen.  
Maybe now it will feel different, but there’s no saying how Tony will feel about it. He’s probably figured out how it came to be that his team was living in his tower, but how he’s taking it is another story.  
Steve just wants to get back and to check on him, and he knows that the rest of the team feel the same way.  
“Dismissed, but I want reports on his progress, physically and mentally,” Fury orders, waving them out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comment about the timeline inaccuracy. I’ve added into this chapter an explanation about how the rest of the team came to be living in the tower even after Tony’s apparent demise.  
> Again, thank you all for the reads and the Kudos.


	18. Thanks. I, uh, I love you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is on deaths door, and he wants to be on his own.

Tony is working for almost fifteen minutes before his eyes widen in shocked realization.  
“Crap!” He shouts. “J, is Bruce back?”  
“The quinjet will arrive in five minutes. Would you like me to ask Bruce to come to your lab?”  
“No, J. Tell him to meet me in his. I don’t have the equipment.”  
Tony runs from his workshop to try and find the one Bruce uses (because of course he’d have one), mentally giving himself a thorough once over. Apart from the obvious injuries to attained during the physical battle, he doesn’t feel any different.  
“Sir, Dr. Banner is on his way now.”  
Tony finds Bruce’s lab on the same floor as his own, and he stands outside, waiting for Bruce to appear.  
“Tony, what’s wrong?”  
“I forgot to mention earlier, but they injected me with something, I don’t know what it was, but he said I’d die and I don’t know... if it’s due to that or not.”  
Bruce gapes and then grabs Tony roughly by the arm and drags him towards the metal table in the middle of the room.  
“Sit,” he orders.  
“Yes master,” Tony replies snarkily.  
“How do you just forget something like this?” He asks, angrily preparing some medical equipment.  
Tony’s heart starts to beat faster, though he tries to reason with himself that he has nothing to fear. Bruce won’t hurt him, won’t torture him, won’t let him die without trying everything.  
“It’s strangely ironic, actually,” Tony replies, before launching into an explanation of what they had told him about the drug.  
He gently sidesteps mentioning the torture, because he doesn’t think it will benefit anyone to divulge that information. Besides, he needs Bruce as Dr. Banner, not the hulk and he doesn’t know how Bruce will react to hearing about the pain they inflicted. Maybe he’s thinking too highly of himself.  
“We’ll take some blood and run some tests, and see if we can build an antidote in time. How long?”  
“Uh,” Tony does some quick mental maths. “It was around an hour ago that he told me, I’d say.”  
Bruce curses under his breath, and Tony feels a jolt in his stomach. He hates being sick, and he hates going to other people with his problems, but he hasn’t been given a wide range of options. He’s smart, but he’s not a doctor. Biological sciences are not his forte, and he’d be wasting time trying to find a cure by himself. However, this alternative means that Bruce is angry and worried, and Tony feels bad for it.  
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Bruce says, cutting Tony off before he’d even opened his mouth. “This isn’t your fault, I’m not angry at you and it’s normal for people to worry.”  
“Can you read minds how?” Tony asks, feeling oddly vulnerable.  
“No, but you’re not as great at masking how you feel when you’re like this.”  
Tony looks down at his body, and a frown tugs at his lips.  
“It’s weird, right? We spend our entire lives wishing the stem the aging process, and yet here I am, hating every second of it.”  
Bruce prepares a needle, and cleans a spot in the crook of Tony’s elbow. He inserts the tip deftly and takes some blood, filling up several vials. Tony swallows heavily and looks away. Needles aren’t his favorite. Bruce gives him an encouraging smile and Tony sticks his tongue out.  
“Don’t treat my any different just cause I’m back to my virgin years.”  
“It’s easier for you to ask that than it is for us to act on it.”  
Tony shrugs, because Bruce doesn’t really argue for the fun of it like Tony does, so there’s probably some truth hidden in there somewhere.  
“That’s what I thought,” Bruce laughs, though it’s strained.  
He begins to divide up the samples and runs them through various different machines.  
It takes almost half an hour for the results to come back, and they’re not good.  
“I can’t detect any foreign agents. It’s either invisible, or it’s been completely expelled from your system.”  
“And going by my track record, it’s more likely the former, right?”  
Bruce doesn’t reply, he simply looks away from Tony.  
“Well, since it looks like there’s nothing we can do, I might as well go find a hole and...”  
Bruce catches Tony off guard by pulling him into a tight hug. Tony struggles against his vice like grip, but he can’t seem to stop himself from melting into it.  
“Bruce, come on bro. You can’t hog me forever.”  
Bruce chuckles into Tony’s hair but still makes no move to let go. Tony starts to wriggle away and Bruce finally relents.  
“I’ll be fine.” He falsely promises.  
“You don’t seem to be overly worried about this, Tony,” Bruce says, nervously.  
“I don’t feel very worried. Maybe I’ve become just a little to desensitized to near death experiences?”  
Tony knows it’s an outright lie, but if it helps to ease Bruce’s conscience, it’s worth it.  
“It’s scary how realistic that option is, isn’t it?”  
Tony smiles lopsidedly, and leaves the room. He doesn’t want to draw the conversation on longer than he needs to. He’s got some dying to do. Bruce would rather not let him out of his sight, but he has to respect Tony’s need to be alone, even if it’s to die. Bruce’s heart twists as his genius friend turns the corner, and disappears, maybe for the last time.  
Bruce stares at the spot for a long time, waiting in case Tony runs back to him, even though he knows it’s impossible. Tony might crave comfort, be no matter what state he’s in, he never seeks it out. He won’t come back for help, and Bruce wonders if he had to convince himself to go to Bruce in the first place.  
Bruce steps into the elevator, and presses the button for the communal floor, his breath coming up short and his hands shaking.  
He looks at his watch.  
2 hours.  
Roughly, that’s how long Tony has left if the chemical agent does kill him. Bruce takes a deep breath as he steps out of the elevator and faces the rest of the avengers, whore standing around waiting.  
“Where’s Tony?”  
“He’s, uh, in his lab. He’ll probably be up in a while,” Bruce lies. He ignores the quirk of Natasha’s eyebrow and the twitch in Clint’s bow arm.  
They know he’s lying, but they trust him enough to not push the subject, and Bruce is beyond grateful for that. He simply can’t deal with questions, because he’s not great under pressure. He doesn’t want to have to betray Tony’s trust.  
He walks into the kitchen and sets the water to boil.  
“Tea, anyone?”

  
~~~

Tony paces his workshop, stopping every few minutes to pet Dummy’s claw, because it’s mournful beeping reminds Tony repeatedly that he might be on deaths door. He’s got almost half an hour before his days might come to a sudden and abrupt end, but he still doesn’t feel anything.  
“J, is there any sign of deterioration yet?”  
“No, sir, but rest assured that the moment my scans detect anything out of the ordinary, you’ll be the first to know.”  
Tony freezes on the spot, staring at the wall as he replays the last few hours over and over in his head.  
“The man said I would die and that the chemical would leave my system in four hours, but he didn’t say that the two things were in any way related.  
“Jarvis, can you detect what the last orders were to the bomb before I sent the signal to blow it up?”  
Tony is almost giddy with excitement as he realizes that there’s a high chance the bomb was due to explode in the building, minutes after they left. Tony didn’t even consider that they’d make him build the cause of his own death.  
“It was set to explode four minutes after it did, sir.”  
Tony pumps a fist into the air, and does a little happy dance, which perks DUM-E up considerably, even if he seems confused as to why.  
“So maybe that’s what he meant?” Tony asks, encouraging the A.I to say yes.  
“It’s a possibility.”  
Better to have some hope than none at all, Tony thinks, as he moves towards his computer, ready to send out emails just in case he does snuff it.  
“Dear Pepper and Rhodey,  
Don’t read this email until you’re together, because everything I have to say affects you both equally, and it’s easier for me to bare my soul once than it is to do it twice.  
Here it goes;  
You two are my best friends, and you’ve never let me down, or left me even when I’ve given you more than enough reason to.  
I’m infuriating, I know that, and I’m self-centered and egotistical. Despite this, you stick by my side and you’re always there when I need you.  
I know I don’t say this often, but I love you both more than I’ve ever loved anyone before. You’ve more than made up for every failed relationship I had with either my parents or any of my ‘friends’.  
I want you to know that I’ve always appreciated you, and I’ve never wanted to let you down, even though I know I have in the past.  
Something has happened, and if you’re receiving this email, then I’m dead. Bruce will give you all the gory details if you really want them, but I’d rather you imagined that I died in some fantastical way, brought on by heroism, rather than by something stupid that I couldn’t prevent.  
Never forget that I love you, both of you.  
Tony Stark.”  
  
Tony takes a few shuddery breaths and then orders J to send the email if he doesn’t make it.  
“Do you not think this is something you should tell them while you’re still alive?” Jarvis asks, disapproval ripe in his voice.   
“Um, no? They’d try and get here before it happened, and I don’t want them to see me like that if I can avoid it. Don’t send it until I’m gone, Ok, J?”  
“Yes sir.”  
“Thanks. I, uh, I love you too.”  
Jarvis doesn’t say anything, but he does play the italian lullaby, and Tony lays down on the sofa and prepares for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn’t sure if I was going to kill him off or not. I’ve been thinking about it all day.


	19. Anthony Edward Stark!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony plans to catch up with the team, but he ends up catching up on sleep first.

The avengers are angry for two reasons. The first being Fury and his almost apathetic approach to Tony’s situation, and the second being Tony himself.  
“Jarvis, can’t you relay a message for me, at least?” Clint begs, banging on the workshop door.  
“I could,” Jarvis replies.  
Clint stares at the camera, glowering so that the A.I knows that the archer doesn’t appreciate his word games.  
“Well, will you?”  
“This is one of those times that I believe sir is entitled to his privacy,” Jarvis tells the disgruntled archer.  
“But he’s still got a kids body-“ Clint begins, but he’s quickly cut off.  
“If sir puts himself in danger, you will be notified instantly. If he starts using any power tools that will cause him harm, I will turn them off. Sir is perfectly safe inside of these walls, I will make sure of that.”  
Clint blinks at the harshness of the computers tone. He clearly doesn’t take well to the implication that he can’t take care of his creator.  
“Fine.” Clint kicks the door before turning around and returning to the lounge on the common floor.  
“I see you’re missing the one thing we sent you down for,” Bucky says, as he patches up his human arm with a first aid kit balancing on his knee.  
Bucky has called out on a lot of missions recently, and hasn’t been around a lot during the entire fiasco. Clint grunts as he throws himself down next to Natasha.  
“Jarvis wouldn’t even let me speak to him,” he moaned, pouting. “But he’s being taken care of, that’s something. I just worry that he’s getting himself into trouble.”  
“I feel like you’ve learnt nothing since you’ve met me.”  
They all turn as Tony walks out of the elevator and into the kitchen. He grabs an ice pack, presses it to his face where the bruises are,and switches the coffee machine on.  
“I’m not surprised, but offended anyway. I can look after myself.”  
“Tony,” Steve stands up and watches as Tony waves him away.  
“Look, you need to stop trying to bug me. I have three years of work to catch up on and it’s not going to be quick work.”  
“You’ve been dead for 3 years, Tony. Can’t we please just spend some time... with you not being dead?” Bruce speaks this time, and he looks hurt. He’s obviously relieved to see Tony alive, though he’s clearly been waiting on the edge of his seat.  
Tony flinches involuntarily, because there aren’t many people in the world that he’s let himself get attached to, but Bruce is one of them. That he has caused him any amount of pain is unacceptable, and Tony wants to do whatever he can to make his science bro feel better.   
But Tony can’t help but wonder why it has to be about other people? Why can’t it be about him, for once? Sure, everyone thinks he’s this selfish arsehole who only ever thinks of himself, but that’s a persona that’s been getting out of control for years, and people stopped looking and started assuming. He can’t do anything to remedy it, but everything he does worsens it.  
He really just wanted to come up and show Bruce that he was alive. He’d accidentally fallen asleep, and he’d woken up half an hour after his estimated time of death. He was so relieved that he was alive that he’d cried, and he couldn’t let Clint see him like that.  
“Please, Tony. Movie night? We’ll order in burgers. Dozens of them.”  
Tony laughs, a genuine one, and shakes his head.  
“Your blackmail is disgusting,” he accuses, wagging a finger towards the other scientist.  
“Is it working, though?” Bruce seems to know he’s already won, because alongside the humour on his face there is relief.  
Tony feels bad for almost turning around and walking out, and even worse because he still wants to. However, he pushes it down and jumps over the back of the sofa to land between the scientist and the big, blonde genetic experiment.  
“What’re we watching, then?”

  
~~~

  
Hours later, the burgers are eaten, the sun has gone down and the credits roll on the screen. Tony had fallen asleep at some point, and everyone is a little too worried about moving, in case they wake him up. They are all too aware of how trying to catch up on three years worth of work will keep Tony awake, and if it wasn’t healthy before, it is practically a death penalty to his new body. They’re just glad he can get a good nights sleep before he delves into that particular pit of work.  
Natasha gently elbows Clint and points at Tony. Clint scowls at her and shakes his head. She arches an eyebrow and he scowls further but stands up and walks to where Tony is lightly snoring. He puts one arm under the boys legs and another around his back, and gently lifts him from the sofa.  
Without saying a word, Thor stands up, walks ahead of Clint, and opens the bedroom door. Steve follows and peels back the bed covers, and Natasha takes his shoes off.  
It all feels sickening domestic, and Clint pulls a face at it, but he lays the boy down and pulls the covers over his friends slight frame.  
“Thanks,” Tony mumbles, almost incoherent with the weight of sleep, which is probably for the best because otherwise he would be humiliated beyond words.  
Bruce watches it all unfold from the door way, concern pinching his features.  
Bucky watches Bruce, and he has a sneaking suspicion as to what’s bothering him.  
“You’re worried that they’ll stop the moment he’s back to normal, aren’t you?”  
Bruce looks up with a start, and cautiously eyes the rest of the team as they leave the room. Bucky and Bruce purposefully lag behind.  
“They’ve been living on his property for three years, and everything has been paid for by him without his permission,” Bruce explains. “None of them liked him before. They didn’t even try to hide it. The first words Tony Stark heard out of his hero’s mouth were words of disappointment and Natasha wrote that scathing report about him. It feels like they’re only playing the part because they’ve grown used to the lifestyle.”  
“I agree.”  
Bruce blinks in surprise, and pauses by the kitchen counter. The rest of the team have moved to their own floors, except Clint, who moves into the room next to Tony’s.  
“You agree?”  
“Sure. I don’t like being here, it makes me uncomfortable to stay in the home of a man I don’t know. All the food I eat is paid for by a man I’d never met, and I thought I’d never have the chance to say thank you.”  
Bucky runs a hand through his long hair and sighs.  
“That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that Steve felt so guilty about something he couldn’t control, and yet still couldn’t find it in him to say something nice about the man. People take what they think they deserve, even if it’s from someone who doesn’t deserve to have things taken from him.”  
Bruce nods sadly, claps Bucky on the shoulder and walks away.  
At least he’s not the only one who’s thinking about how unfair it all is.  
“But,” Bucky calls after him. “I don’t think it will go back to how it was. What Tony did showed them a side of him that they’d never seen before. I think now he’ll get the respect he deserves.”  
Bruce smiles and leaves for his own floor.

  
~~~

 

Tony wakes up with a start. The sun is streaming onto him through the window, and he can hear familiar voices shouting outside of his room and it sends a shiver down his back. God, he’s in so much trouble.  
“Anthony Edward Stark, you did NOT almost die again without telling me first!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter. I hope you’ve liked it so far. I’ve enjoyed writing it, that’s for sure!
> 
> I’m open to suggestions if anyone wants something specific to happen. Your last chance!


	20. “I am Tony Stark.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wants to take advantage of his youth, but under the threat of being denied access to his own suit, he takes drastic measures to remind the world exactly who he is.

Tony looks around the room in a panic, before his suspicious eyes fall onto the camera in the corner of the room.  
“Jarvis,”  
“Yes sir?”  
Tony waits, knowing that his A.I is well aware what Tony is angry about.  
“It seems I accidentally sent the email last night.”  
“Oh, yes. You ‘accidentally’ went against my orders? One of these days I’m going to donate you to a community college.”  
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis replies, sounding humored. “It won’t happen again.”  
Tony rolls his shoulders, but more out of habit that anything else. He doesn’t need to shake the aches that he would normally wake up with. He feels great. This young body definitely has some major pro points.  
“Tony!”  
Rhodey’s voice cuts into Tony’s moment of thought and he climbs from the bed and walks out of the room.  
The entire team are stood in the lounge, except for Bruce who is stood in the kitchen looking uncomfortable.  
“Hey Rhodey. Pep. How’s it going?”  
Tony is immediately engulfed in a rib cracking hug from his two best friends, and they are don’t let go when they start talking.  
“How many times do you have to be on your death bed before you talk to us first?” Pepper asks, annoyed.  
“Uh, third times a charm?”  
“I don’t understand.” Clint says, looking around at his team, each also wearing an identical look of confusion. “When were you dying?”  
“You can ask Bruce that one, Clint,” Rhodey says, as he gently disentangles himself and holds Tony in front of him. “Turns out someone thought it was OK to lock himself away in his workshop in what he thought were his dying moments.”  
“Tony!” Steve shouts.  
“What?” Tony tried to shake away Rhodey’s hands, but he makes no progress. “Can’t a man die in peace any more?”  
“Hardly constitute as a ‘man’ any more,” Bucky comments casually. “You’re more of a runt now.”  
“Hey!” Tony snips back, “Rude.”  
Bucky laughs, and he seems to be the only one capable of not being wound up so tight that they might break.  
“Can we call it a lapse in judgement and leave it at that?” Tony begs, as he places his hands atop of Rhodey’s. “I’m fine now, aren’t I?”  
“But you weren’t. You thought you could send us an email? Really Tony? That’s worse than making me CEO because of the palladium poisoning.”  
“Wait, how many times have you nearly died?”  
“I think this makes it twice, now.” Natasha pipes up. “Not counting his Iron Man duties.”  
“You knew?” Steve asks.  
“Only the first time!” She defends. “This time I had almost no idea.”  
“Almost?”  
“Yeah, well, Bruce has a terrible poker face.”  
This is the point in which everyone turns to face Bruce, who looks like he wants nothing more than to blend into the wall. Tony gives him a sympathetic look.  
“I... well, he asked me not to tell anyone.”  
Tony finally manages to wiggle free of Rhodey’s grip and he saunters over to Bruce to offer a little solidarity.  
“Look, just drop it, Ok? It’s clearly not a big deal, seeing as I’m still alive.”  
Pepper looks like she wants nothing more than to keep discussing it, but Rhodey puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she closes her mouth.  
“Fine. But you owe me.”  
“You already have my company. What else do you want from me?”  
Pepper smiles maliciously, and Tony regrets asking almost straight away.

  
~~~

  
Three hours later, Tony is still trying on all the clothes that Pepper is picking out for him.  
“These seem a little juvenile, Pep. Can’t we just go get some Gucci suits tailored?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Pepper scolds without any heat. “Besides, it’s not my fault you don’t fit into the clothes for kids your age.”  
“Yeah, Tones. I’m surprised you’re still so small. I thought you were tiny when we were at college. This is something else!” Rhodey laughs.  
“It took a while to get the growth spurt,” Tony argues, as he steps from behind the curtain.  
“You never had a growth spurt. You were always the shortest,” Pepper jokes, admiring the outfit she put him in. “I love this Avengers merchandise. You look like a real fanboy.”  
“Shut up,” Tony mutters, pulling on the collar of his Avengers T-shirt. “I look stupid.”  
“You do, but it’s not because of the outfit,” Rhodey tells him, causing Pepper to snicker.  
“Whatever. Can we leave now? I’m bored.”  
Pepper nods and gathers up all of the clothes she had picked out. Tony quickly changes back into his normal clothes, a shirt and pair of sweats. Rhodey helps and they make their way towards the check out.  
“Big fan of the avengers, eh, kid?” Asks a spotty teenager as he scans the tags.  
“No, but my mum has the hots for Iron Man.”  
Pepper bats his arm and Rhodey chokes back a laugh. The check-out boy looks confused, but he doesn’t comment on it.  
“Let’s go,” Tony says happily as he helps carry the bags over to the car. Happy jumps out and helps load up their goods before climbing back into the front and taking off.  
Tony yawns, but tries to cover it up. He squeaks embarrassingly loudly when Rhodey pokes him in the side.  
“Tired, little man?”  
“No!” Tony denies pointlessly.  
“It’s been a fairly long day. Maybe we should put you down for a nap?”  
“You won’t be putting me down for anything,” Tony scowls. “Besides, I want Natasha to teach me how to do a back flip!”  
Tony begins to talk excitedly about how much stuff he can do now that his body isn’t plagued with age and aches. Pepper listens in horror as he describes how cool parkour looks, but no one stops him until he starts to describe modifying the Iron Man suit to fit his new body.  
“Nuh uh,” Pepper says forcefully. “There’s no way.”  
“What?”  
“You’re not stepping into that suit again, Tony. Not until you’re at least old enough to drive.”  
Tony looks shocked and offended, but he turns to Rhodey, looking for an ally in his plea.  
“If Pepper says no, then I have to agree,” he says, solemnly.  
“What’re you guys, my parents? In case you’ve forgotten, I’m actually a grown man. I can kinda do what I want.” Tony argues.  
“Yeah? We’ll see what Captain America has to say about that.”  
“Like he’s going to lose one of his team mates,” Tony scoffs, folding his arms confidently. “Iron Man is a staple of the Avengers.”

  
~~~

  
“Absolutely not!” Steve says, with his ‘cap’ voice on. “You’re a child, Tony. We can’t risk your life!”  
Tony gapes at him, and then looks around at the rest of the team, silently begging them to back him up. No one does. Not even Bruce, the traitor.  
“You’re kicking me off the team?” He asks, his voice shaking.  
“Well, hey now, no one said that,” Steve placates.  
“Really? Because I’m not much use without the suit on,” Tony looks down at his lap where his hands are clasped in death grip.  
“Tony, that’s not true,” Bruce says. “If I remember correctly, you’re also a Genius, Billionaire, philanthropist. You’ll notice I skipped one, for the sake of being PG.”  
Tony doesn’t look up. They’re trying to make him feel better, but it’s not working. He’s just going to be in the way now, and that’s if they don’t kick him out first.  
“Tony, look at me,” Steve urges, placing a finger under his friends chin and tilting his head up. “You’re not your superhero persona, ok? You’re so much more than that. You’re still a member of the team, but you just need to take a step back from certain duties until you’re... you know, old enough to take them on again.”  
“Oh, and you’re the one who gets to make that decision? Why isn’t this my choice?”  
“Because,” Coulson says, as he steps out of the elevator. “Steve has been officially given guardianship of you.”  
“You’re fucking kidding,” Tony says, his mouth hanging open in horror.  
“Language,” Steve warns, before mimicking Tony’s reaction.  
“Did you not think it would be worth asking me first?” Steve asks. “This is a huge responsibility. I don’t know if I’m up for the job of raising a kid.”  
“Um, hold up. Not a kid. I don’t need to be raised,” Tony interjects. “Remember? Still an old man up here.”  
Tony taps his temple and Clint rolls his eyes.  
“You were always an over grown child. You’re just not over grown anymore.”  
“This isn’t open for discussion. Legally, you need adult supervision, no matter what the circumstances you are. Steve is the better option, because he is called on the least amount of missions, doesn’t have a dangerous alter ego and doesn’t have business to deal with on another realm regularly. Rhodey and Pepper were my first choices, but they have other things to deal with.”  
Coulson doesn’t wait for them to complain. He simply leaves then all standing in shock.  
“I am not calling you dad,” Tony says before going to his room and slamming the door.  
“I bet five dollars that I can get him to call me Uncle Clint before the month is over.”  
“I’ll get in on that,” Natasha says.

  
~~~

  
Tony feels humiliated. How can he just be thrust into the care of someone else? He’s a full grown man, not a child. Not really, at least.  
And how is he supposed to give up being Iron Man when it is the only thing good thing about him.  
He remembers how good it felt to out himself, and tell the world that he was worth more than the stories the media told about him.  
He smiles as he’s struck with sudden inspiration.  
“Jarvis, call a press conference, and don’t tell the team about it. Make it hasty.”  
“Yes, sir,” Jarvis replies, apprehensively.

  
~~~

  
Tony stands at the front of Stark Tower, smiling on a podium in front of a gaggle of reporters.  
They keep asking him questions about who he is, how he looks like the late Tony Stark, and if he’s any relation.  
Tony just grins wildly and leans into the microphone. The crowd falls silent, and the only sounds to be heard are the shouts of his team mates as they step outside to try and get to Tony before he speaks.  
“I am Tony Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I’m leaving this open for a sequel, and there’s a high chance I’ll write one too, but it really depends on the kind of response I get from this.  
> Chances are, if it’s well received, I’ll write the next lot AFTER I have the plot perfected, rather than before I even attempt to write one.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who stuck around with me while this was being written!


End file.
